Failure to Thrive
by JadeBrycin2116
Summary: AU Tims parents had always been cold but he never thought they would cut him off. Hes got one yr to figure things out and in the mean time hes stuck working for Bruce Waynes kids. While hes busy trying to find himself and keep anyone from noticing the eating disorder hes got creeping back & abuse, everyone else seems to be trying to make his life more difficult.
1. Chapter 1

Failure to Thrive

hey guys this is a new story im trying since my other one is coming to an end...

It's the first time ive ever written most of these characters like tim, jason, babs, damian, steph etc... sorry if theyre a little ooc. plz just bear with me :) im learning

anyways, just a warning, this is an AU that deals with child abuse and eating disorders...as well as many different relationships/hook ups on tims part. I hope you enjoy and feel free to tell me what you think.

I do not own young justice

* * *

1

"_Could you be anymore stupid?" _

"_What is wrong with you?" _

Tim sat on the edge of his bathtub, a pained gasp filling his lungs as he pressed an alcohol saturated cotton ball to his cheek. It stung, but it wasn't a feeling he was unfamiliar with. He didn't particularly _care_ for it, by now though he was accustomed to it.

"_How could you not get accepted? I did all of the work! You should've got in on my name alone!" _

"_We should've known better Jack. Timothy finds a way to ruin everything!"_

The cut had already welted and was going to bruise, he was sure of it. It wouldn't be bad though. He's had worse. At least this time his father's hand had been open when he struck his face, instead of balled into its usual fist. However, something about being slapped was a little more shameful, more _degrading_.

"_I want you to do one thing and you can't even do it right! I'm so embarrassed to call you my son right now I barely even want to see your face!" _

"_What is everyone going to say when they find out? Didn't we give you everything? You never needed or wanted for anything you ungrateful leech. You could've at least done this much!"_

His parents weren't always that cold and heartless…or maybe they were, but they weren't _always _physical with him. Usually, The Drakes only laid hands on their son when they were really angry with him, or in this case extremely angry _and_ disappointed. Tonight, his father had been very upset and he was holding back, Tim could tell. He'd only grabbed him by the arms and back handed him. The rest of the time, he could barely stomach looking at his son. Tim wasn't sure which hurt worse.

"_I hope you don't expect me to support you after this. You have the rest of this year and then you're on your own. No trust fund. No college fund. I don't know what you're going to do, but you better start figuring things out now." _

"_I know you've never worked for anything ever in your life, and have no work ethic at all, but might I suggest you take your lazy ass out and find a job? In fact, Mr. Wayne down the street was telling me about the bakery his son and the Commissioner's daughter run. Maybe if you're lucky, I can beg him to put in a good word for you."_

His mother was right when she'd said he'd never had a job before. Other than his straight-A average, he really never had to work anything in his life, and he barely had to work for that. School came naturally to him. Plus being born with wealthy parents and a silver spoon in your mouth didn't hurt much either. At least it never had before, but now that his parents were essentially cutting him off after his senior year, never having to work for anything may have just put him at a serious disadvantage.

It was moments like this, moments where he was at his lowest or where he felt all around inadequate, moments when he just couldn't figure out the right way to cope, that he found old habits creeping back. Usually he could keep a handle on it, but that nobody could be one hundred percent in control one hundred percent of the time. This was one of those times.

He put away his alcohol and swabs, and made his way into his room. The first thing he did was stick his hand into the second drawer of his nightstand, a drawer he tried not to venture into often, but kept stocked because he couldn't really help it. He didn't feel right if it wasn't. From inside he pulled out one of several cheap cardboard boxes filled with whatever artificial, plastic packaged snack's he'd bought that day.

_What_ he ate wasn't that important, it was more about the sense of control and comfort he got from eating it. Curling up in his bed, his face towards the wall, Tim opened the first plastic wrapper and started in. At least if he concentrated on eating through this entire box of snack cakes he wouldn't have the energy to keep dwelling on what a failure he was, or how much he'd disappointed his parents, or the ache of the bruises starting to form on his arms, or anything else that was going wrong at the moment. Right now it was just him and food, and he liked it way.

"_You have no idea how lucky you are. Mr. Wayne's son was actually looking for a new cashier to work weekends and afterschool. You start tomorrow morning at nine." _

He couldn't wait.

* * *

Tim woke up early the next morning, because he tried to never waste his mornings if he could, and rolled over; getting a good look at the damage he'd done last night. Ten cakes at about one hundred and fifty calories each according to the box…it added up to about fifteen hundred calories in one sitting.

_Disgusting_.

At least that's how most people would feel about it. That's how he usually felt about it after doing it enough times. It didn't bother him until it started to become visible to other people, mostly his parents. When they started to comment on how much he was eating at the table or ask him if he was putting on weight was generally when he would decide to get a hold on things…kind of.

_If you could call throwing up or excessively working out getting a hold on things_.

For most people it wouldn't, but for Tim, they both counted. That's how he kept this disorder in check. He wouldn't really consider himself a bulimic or a compulsive eater. This wasn't a binge _and_ purge thing, but it wasn't just a binge thing either. He was different and it was complicated. Besides, he'd managed to keep it in check this long. If it was really a problem, he'd probably be in some sort of in-patient program. It wasn't a problem. The fact that his parents were absolutely pissed at him and he had to work this stupid, time consuming job when he could be doing better things, was the problem.

* * *

The bakery was _nice_. There definitely wasn't anything wrong with it by Tim's standards. It was in a very nice part of the city, and that was saying a lot considering this was Gotham and sometimes even the safest parts were pretty damn sketchy. The sign outside said "Barbara's", which Tim didn't find to be very creative, but it was better than something cheesy like _"Sprinkles"_ or _"Frosting"_. It was a good size with huge floor to ceiling windows lining the front of the building. The inside was decorated in very pale purples and yellows, a combination that sounded gross but worked and was actually fairly pleasing to the eyes.

"You must be Timothy," he heard from behind him as he leaned forward and glanced over the pastries sitting in one of the display cases.

Immediately he found himself correcting the girl out of habit. "Yeah um, Timothy Drake; but I just prefer Tim actually."

He stood up and turned around to see a tall redhead smiling at him. She was definitely a knockout; that was the first thing he noticed. It was hard to miss. He'd seen a lot of attractive females in his life, but she was something else. Maybe he might actually enjoy this job?

"Well hey Tim, my name's Barbara…but I guess you probably already knew that from the sign huh? Either way, you can just call me Babs."

Babs? Seemed a little informal considering she was his boss and the name was reminding him of cartoon rabbits, but he brushed it off. "It's nice to meet you."

"Well aren't you polite," she beamed, "That's good because on cashier, you'll be dealing with most of the customers that come through. Have you ever worked a cash register before?"

Tim shook his head. He'd never even had a job before, but he didn't mention that much.

"Alright, well I'll get Dick to show you when he gets here," she glanced up at the clock, "Which will be soon hopefully. We open at ten, but everyone's supposed to come in an hour early to set up, or do inventory, things like that…Nine times out of ten, it's usually just me on weekends because Dick and his brothers can't ever seem to truly make it on time to anything."

She doesn't sound that upset about it, so Tim concludes that it's something she's accepted by now. He can't help but wonder how long it's been going on and exactly how much leniency Dick and his brothers have at this job?

He suspects it's a lot and he wouldn't be surprised. He and Babs may not know each other, but Tim's met Bruce Wayne's kids once or twice at some charity events. They're smart, attractive, charming and they're _Bruce Wayne's_ kids, which pretty much ensures that they get whatever they want whenever they want it. Nothing is too much or impossible for them. While most people only read about it in the tabloids and papers, he's witnessed that first hand.

"Well until he gets here, I'll clue you in on everything else. Jason, the middle brother, and I do majority of the baking. Dick helps sometimes, but mostly he handles the business aspects of things like taking orders, balancing the checkbook, paying bills. He basically handles all of the boring stuff. Damian, the youngest, just started not too long ago. He mostly cleans, washes dishes, pretty much the physical labor. I have a few other friends that work here during the week, but you won't see them much because they'll be here while you and Damian are at school.

Um, on weekdays you'll work three-thirty to five-thirty. Saturdays are nine to seven. Sundays are nine to five-thirty. On weekends you get two fifteen minute breaks and a half hour lunch break. Dick will more than likely cover the register whenever you choose to take those..."

Politely Tim nods as Barbara stops to think about what to say next. She glances around, her blue eyes darting across the bakery before it finally comes to her. "Oh! Here, follow me," she says, leading Tim behind the counters and through an archway that leads to a hallway.

There's a utility closet behind one door and through another archway he can see the state of the art kitchen, but Barbara keeps walking towards the end of the hall. "There's a break room back here with a fridge and a bathroom. Dick's office is back here too. But here," she opens another door that houses a small room with clothing folded on top of shelves. "What size do you wear?"

Tim thinks for a second. He's not really a big guy, not very tall or ripped or anything. He's not incredibly small either, but clothing can be weird sometimes. He settles on medium. That seems safe. "Medium."

Barbara begins pulling down a pile of things from the almost endless looking stacks filling the shelves. Something tells him Mr. Wayne paid for a lot of this, and maybe he still does. She places several t-shirts in his hand in various colors, along with several long sleeves, a hooded sweatshirt and a fleece. They all feature the logo from the sign outside on them. "I really don't care what kind of bottoms you wear, because you'll mostly be behind the counter anyway, but make sure to wear one of these tops to work every day okay?"

He looks down at the ridiculous pile in his hands. She's basically given him a new wardrobe. It shouldn't be hard to figure out how to put one of these on before he comes in. Following a uniform isn't rocket science. He does it every day at school. "Okay."

She flashes a big, satisfied looking smile before crossing her arms and tapping her foot as she lets out a steady, "_Hmmm…" _

Tim waits patiently until whatever she's trying to come up with next finally clicks to her. He's starting to get the feeling that running a bakery can't be all that hard if she's struggling to come up with things to tell him.

"I think that's about it until Dick comes…though it is a requirement that you taste everything we offer on the menu regularly as well as whatever limited and seasonal items we're offering so that if a customer should ask, you can tell them about each pastry. Saturday mornings aren't all that busy, so if you want to start after you've got a feel for working the register, go ahead."

While the thought of eating a bunch of delicious pastries is ridiculously appealing, Tim knows he needs to watch it, especially after last night. It always starts off slow, but when he gets going, he tends to lose himself in a series of binges until his parents notice or he does. It's a vicious cycle and he wished he hadn't slipped up like he did.

When she can't seem to think of anything else he needs to know, Tim takes the extra time to change into a black version of the long sleeve and toss the rest of the clothes in the backseat of the car. It's while he's undressing in the previously empty parking lot that Dick, Jason, and Damian pull up. Regardless of whether he's met them or not before, being seen half naked by your new co-workers is awkward; and he's pretty sure that's not the greatest way to start your first day. He's just relieved he's got nothing to be embarrassed about. He's been back to his normal size for at least three or four months now.

He's got his new shirt halfway over his head when he hears honking and several obnoxious hoots from the car beside him, all of which are coming from one Dick Grayson. If he's trying to embarrass Tim, and he's pretty sure that's exactly what he's trying to do, he's definitely accomplished that. He quickly forces the shirt over the rest of his torso as he hears the sound of car doors closing and laughter.

"Welcome to your first day Timmy," Dick smiles, walking over and patting the teen on the shoulder. He's oddly comfortable with touching and nicknames despite the fact that they're not even friends, barely acquaintances. They just happen to have been raised in the same social circle.

"My name's Dick," he offers giving Tim an up and down glance. Tim's pretty sure the older male is sizing him up. "It's nice to meet you."

"Tim and likewise," he replies, following Jason and Damian's lead and walking into the bakery. Barbara's already standing in the lobby waiting for them.

Once they're all in she's rolling her eyes, "Well Dick, I see you already harassed our new worker. Tim this is Jason and this Damian. You two, this is Tim."

"Hey." Jason, the older and bigger of the two, gives Tim a fairly nonchalant head nod. He looks like he could care less, and it doesn't really bother Tim much. Sure they're co-workers, but it's not like they'll really be doing much together anyway. He'll be in the back all day.

Next to Jason, Damian has his arm crossed and a scowl plastered to his face. He's definitely sizing Tim up, and has been the entire time; but unlike Dick gaze, it's clearly meant to be taken hostile. He doesn't wave, or say hi, or anything mildly polite. Instead he just scoffs and rolls his eyes before heading towards the back, "I still don't see why we needed to hire someone else," he grumbles, "I'm more than competent enough to handle the register."

It's pretty obvious that Damian's not his biggest fan and that probably won't be changing anytime soon. That could potentially be a problem. Tim figures he'll be seeing more of Damian than he would of Jason.

Barbara lets out an irritated sigh and shrugs, "Ignore Damian. He's always like that, but he'll come around."

He highly doubts it.

"Well Dick, if you want to show Tim what he'll be doing and cover anything I might have forgotten…Jason and I are going to go get started in the back. We've got a couple of orders we need to work on."

Jason huffs, not seeming excited in the least. Then again how many guys that look like Jason would be excited about baking? He's fairly big, still clean cut, but a little rougher around the edges than his brothers. Tim vaguely remembers reading something about Bruce Wayne finding this kid on the streets, so it makes sense.

Tim jumps a little when Dick wraps an arm around his shoulder as if they've been best friends their whole lives. That's twice now that he's touched him and the teen can't decide if he should be flattered or say something. He's not really a fan of being touched, for obvious reasons.

"Alright, working the counter's pretty basic. You just ring people up and wrap up whatever they buy. I handle all of the custom orders and answer the phone, so you don't really have to worry about that. If you ever run out of anything up here or something starts running low, tell Babs. Either she has one waiting in the fridge in the kitchen, or she'll whip up whatever we're missing."

Tim just nods as Dick leads him to register and explains the buttons and tasks that he'll need to be familiar with. It takes him no time. Honestly, he probably could've figured the contraption out himself, but he doesn't say anything. After that, Dick shows him where to find bags, or plates if the customers want to sit in and enjoy their pastries at a booth or table. That's pretty idiot proof too. They order a pastry, they pay, Tim puts it on a plate and hands it to him. This is probably going to be the most boring, straight forward job ever…but at least it's easy.

"So any questions?" Dick smiles when it's over. He's sitting on top of the counter, with his head tilted anxiously awaiting Tim's answer. Is he always like this?

He shakes his head, "No."

It's silent for a few moments, before Dick's eyes squint in the most seriously look Tim's seen him give so far. "You don't talk much do you?"

He's a little taken back as he narrows his eyebrows slightly. He doesn't usually get asked that. He talks with his friends and the reporters or the important people at the events he goes to, so they've never questioned it; and most of the time he feels like his parents wish he would stop talking to them altogether. "Um…"

"It's okay," he laughs, "You'll warm up to me eventually. Everyone does."

Tim's mouth parts slightly, but he doesn't know how to respond. Dick clearly isn't expecting a reply because he slides down from the counter and begins to head to the back.

"If you need anything just come find me. I'll be in my office."

The teen nods and takes a seat on the stool behind the register. He tries getting comfortable because he figures he's going to be sitting like this for at least a few hours.

* * *

Barbara wasn't kidding when she said the morning was slow. He's been sitting here about an hour and a half, it's almost 11:15; and he's only seen two customers, but he didn't have to do anything because they were picking up cake orders.

It's easy money.

But he's got way to much free time to think, especially about last night. Just like he thought, the area around the cut bruised just slightly. He's glad nobody this morning seemed to notice or say anything…not that he probably wouldn't have made up a lie anyway.

He can still see the way his dad refused to look him in the eye or how his mom stared as if she was utterly disgusted by him. That had been the last straw. He already got the feeling that nothing he could do was ever really good enough for them, but this was like his last chance; and when he told his parents what the letter in the mail from Gotham U had said yesterday, he'd managed to screw that up.

"So how's it going?" He glances over he sees Barbara leaning against the doorway.

"Um…" he shrugs. He swears he's never said 'um' this many times in an hour ever in his life. "Fine I guess. I mean, nobody's really come in. I haven't done anything."

"It probably won't pick up until people start coming down for lunch…Well, have you liked anything you've tried so far?"

His eyes widen briefly in confusion, "_Tried_?"

"My menu, that you're supposed to tasting out here? Grab a plate and get started, at least it'll give you something to do."

"Yeah…I'll um, get started on that."

That seems to pacify her and she beams, "Okay, I'll be back to see how you're doing later."

He nods. He doesn't understand how she and Dick seem so chipper this early in the day, but he's glad he can help keep her happy.

He grabs a plate and a fork and looks over at the first case. Tim can't help but think this is probably the hands down worst place to put a kid with his _problems_…but it's not like anyone else knows he has them, so how could his parents know any better? Sure he's still upset about last night, but he's got a handle on it. He's in control, and he's never been _that_ bad anyway, so he's fine. At least, that's what he tells himself.

He'll just take one bite of everything and then throw the leftovers out. It'll be a big waste, but it's not like the task was to _eat_ it all, just _taste_ it.

* * *

It takes him a few hours, but he gets through about one of two display cases. It's hard but he manages to keep with his one bite rule throughout most of it; though he does slip up once on a really good piece of German Chocolate cake and finishes about half before he realizes what he's doing. He's still got a whole case and several samples on the counter to try but he's checking out for right now. Asking him to taste everything in a few hours without a break is just unrealistic anyway.

Around twelve-thirty things start picking up, but it's still not moving extremely fast. Barbara says it's just a slow day, _that usually Saturday's are more exciting than this_, and he wants to believe her but that might just be because he thinks she's pretty.

When things are moving really slow, and it's been about thirty minutes since the last customer, Tim stands and decides to ask Dick for something to read from his office to past time. He likes to read so it should actually help to kill some of the boredom.

He walks down the hall, hoping to be quick so he doesn't miss a customer, and gets an eyeful of way more than he's expecting when he looks through the partially open door of Dick's office. He's sitting in his chair with Barbara straddling his lap and they're pretty much eating each other's faces as he slides his hand up her shirt. Tim's not exactly sure, after all he's not a baker or anything, but something tells him that isn't exactly sanitary.

Regardless, this is none of his business, but before he can slip out unnoticed, Dick sees him standing in the now open doorway and pulls away from Barbara. She's seems upset at first, but when she looks over her shoulder, she's begins to blush bright red.

"O-oh, Tim!"

"Tim wai-" Dick's saying as the teen backs out. He puts his hands up in the universal sign for 'not a threat.

"Um, wow…I'm ugh-I'm sorry-I'll just-" He doesn't even finish before he's walking back down the hallway. He's not sure why but he's just as embarrassed and wants to get out of that awkward situation as fast as possible.

Of course that isn't possible because when he's sitting back at his post, he can feel Dick just looking at him from the doorway. Tim is praying he's just going to turn around and drop it. He doesn't want any sort of explanation. So he and Barbara hook up at work sometimes? Maybe she has a thing for sex in public places, or maybe he does, who cares? Tim doesn't. He just wants to pretend he never saw that shit.

"So…" Dick says, sliding up onto the counter, "About that…"

"About what?"

"Oh come on Tim, we both know you saw that."

"Really Dick its fine, you don't have to come up here and run damage control. You're both adults. I should've knocked or something," he says it as nonchalant as possible in hopes that Dick will just go away, but Tim's starting to notice that Dick's a special type of guy.

"No, that was my fault. I could've at least closed the door all the way or waited unt-"

At this point, he just really wants Dick to go. He doesn't want to hear about it or talk about it. Besides they're not even friends, so he really want any details and it's an uncomfortable subject anyway. At least they were just kissing. "Look, what you do with your girlfriend in _your_ bakery during your downtime is none of my business."

The only response he gets is a very confused, "Girlfriend?"

Tim just looks up. He figured by the way they were groping each other at his desk and the fact that they shared a bakery together made it sort of obvious. Sure, it's called "Barbara's" but Tim isn't stupid. He knows Dick put up the money for it, or convinced Bruce to, and his name is probably the one on the lease.

"Barbara's not my girlfriend," he laughs, "We're just friends, and co-workers."

"Do you buy all of your friends businesses?" Tim deadpans. It probably isn't the smartest remark to shoot your boss, but he just really wants Dick to leave. He also doesn't want him to get the idea that because they work together they're suddenly best friends, and something tells him that's what the older male is thinking.

He laughs more, which is the exact opposite of what Tim is hoping and expecting. "_No._ Babs is like my oldest friend, my _best_ friend. I did this for her after a back injury made her incapable of joining the police force, that's what she _really_ wanted. I know what you saw back there was a little, _weird_ for you I guess, but we're not dating. Not even close. That muddies up the waters, you know?"

So they're just casually fucking is basically what he's trying to say. Tim gets it. They're both attractive people, whatever. He's not sure why he's trying to justify this to him, or why he feels the need to reiterate the fact that he and Barbara aren't together.

Suddenly Dick's reaching a hand out, resting it on Tim's knee which is just strange, but at this point he doesn't question it. _Dick _is strange…and way to comfortable with himself. Tim is willing to bet money he didn't wash his hands before touching him, or at least sanitize either. "So what did you need?"

"It was nothing. I was just going to ask if you had anything to read, but I'll ugh, manage."

"Are you sure? I could grab you something."

"No, really it's fine."

"You just want me to leave, don't you?" Dick offers, but he doesn't sound offended. It's more sly, like he's teasing. "We're going to have to get to know each other eventually you know."

Tim knows, but he isn't looking forward to it. Honestly, it's not even necessary. He isn't really here to make friends, he has those. He's here because he has to be.

He looks around nervously, wondering how he's going to get out of this, but Dick continues.

"Just humor me, answer a few questions and I'll get out of your hair."

Tim lets out a long sigh and stares at the door, praying a customer will walk in and put him out of his misery. Of course his first day just has to be a slow one. It's not that he minds much, it's still easy money, but he could use an excuse to get out of this conversation.

After a few seconds he concedes, "Sure…what do you want to know?"

"Well it's pretty obvious you don't want to be here, in fact you didn't really even apply for the job, so why even go through the trouble?"

"Because I had to," he answers honestly. He doesn't offer the why. He figures that's enough.

Dick cocks his head to the side, his feet swinging back and forth. He looks like a child instead of a grown man. "Because you're mom made you right? Your parents cut you off or something?"

"Wha-" how the hell would he know that? Better yet, if he knows then why the hell did he ask? Tim's borderline insulted. What the hell is this guy's deal? He's clearly a habitual boundary crosser. That's obvious from the impersonal nicknames and the touching. He's slightly immature, and Tim's adding nosy and sneaky to the list too.

He stares at Tim, smirk drawn to his lips, waiting for an answer. It's like he's testing him and Tim's never really been tested like this before. "Yeah, something like that."

"_Why?"_ The way he asks it reminds Tim of an irritating toddler, the kind that asks 'why' over and over again just to purposely bug the shit out of you. He's starting to get the feeling that Dick likes pushing people's buttons, and nobody's probably ever stopped him before; being in the same company as Bruce Wayne affords you certain passes and indulgences.

"I'm sure you know the answer to this question too, don't you?"

The older male just grins, "Maybe…but I want to see if you're going to be honest with me."

"This is a little much for my first day don't you think? I mean we just met."

"No, we've met before…or do you not remember?" he asks, seeming a little disappointed. So what if Tim didn't remember, would he be upset? This guy is much too old to have such childish tendencies. How the hell does he manage to run a business?

Tim just rolls his eyes and ignores the latest question in favor of the previous one. There's no point in lying because he knows Dick knows the answer. He's not an idiot. His mom probably told Bruce, who probably told Dick last night. Janet Drake did always prefer to brag about Tim's shortcomings rather than his achievements.

"I ugh…My parents had planned for me to go Gotham U and do this six year master's program in business like my dad, but I guess it's pretty prestigious. There's only so many spots open and you have to apply and be accepted. I got into Gotham U, but they rejected me for the program. So they were pretty upset about it."

Dick nods, "I know the program. I actually just graduated from it in June."

Of course he did. That would be just Tim's luck.

"You know you can reapply as a sophomore right?"

"I don't think they really care. Besides my dad got accepted as a freshman and graduated in the top three of his class. Going in as a sophomore wouldn't be good enough." He's not even sure why he's offering up this information, but he hasn't gotten a chance to talk to any of his friends about it yet. It does feel good to talk about it, even if it is with Dick Grayson of all people.

"_So what happened then?_"

Tim leans forward onto the counter and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. He gazes briefly at the door and continues to pray for someone to come in. That's probably the only way he's going to get left alone. "What do you mean?"

"Why didn't you get in?"

What the hell kind of question is that? He doesn't choose who gets in or not. "I don't know. I mean, I did everything right. I did well in the interview. I had nine letters of recommendation from professors, counselor, and even a few CEOs. I had a bunch of extracurriculars and community service. I'm a third generation legacy on both my parents sides and my family still donates to the school. Plus I'm literally the top of my class. I've never even gotten a B on my report card before. So, you tell me? All I got was a generic letter saying they rejected me."

"Honestly, you probably should've gotten in on your family name alone."

"That's exactly what my dad said, but I didn't, and he wasn't very happy about it."

"Well, _clearly_," Dick says, pointing a finger at his own cheek. Tim narrows his eyes in confusion, before raising his hand to his cheek.

_Oh_…_that_.

He just shrugs it off. No point in making excuses with him. It's not like it's a big deal or anything. He's got bruises on his arms too, but Dick can't see those through his long sleeve…or maybe he can, who knows with this guy.

"So they were so upset they cut you off and then you got stuck here?"

"Pretty much…but like I said, you already knew all of that, didn't you?"

Oddly enough, Dick's cheeks glaze over in a shade of bright red, "Well yeah, I listen in on Bruce's phone calls sometimes when I'm around…the interesting ones at least."

Oh great, so is that what this is about? Dick finds him and his pathetic sob story interesting? Now he's probably never going to leave him alone; and if he doesn't want to get fired and have his parent's kick him out or something, he's just going to have to deal with it. "So is there anything else extremely personal you'd like to know about me or…"

"Hmm…" he looks around aimlessly, "Got a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Boyfriend?"

"No."

"Pets?"

"No."

"Favorite color?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, "I guess red is ni-can I ask _you_ something?"

Dick perks up noticeably, his body language shifting and his face beaming with excitement, "Yeah, go ahead."

"So if you just got your Masters in business and your ugh, _dad_, owns a billion dollar company, why are you working at a local bakery?" Tim can tell by the way Dick sighs that he was hoping for a more, _interesting_ question, something less business and more personal.

"Well, I'm only twenty-three. I went to college right out high school at seventeen and did the whole business thing. It wasn't exactly _fun_. When Babs told me she was considering saving up to open a bakery I kind of jumped at the idea. She's my friend after all, and this sounded a lot less boring than sitting in an office all day. Wayne Enterprises isn't going anywhere and Bruce knows I'm not exactly, _ready_ to make that sort of commitment yet. I'm not ready to be tied down to a boring job and at least this way, I'm helping Babs, I'm not totally miserable, and I still get to make use of my degree until I'm ready or Bruce needs me."

_Well lucky him_, Tim thinks bitterly…but then again it isn't Dick's fault that he didn't get into the Gotham U Business Masters program. It's his own.

"Anything else?" Dick asks, eagerly. Honestly that was the only thing Tim really cared about. It's obvious that regardless of the reasons why he's there, Dick really wants them to get along. He's probably never been turned by anyone or for anything ever in his life.

"Um…nope, not really." As much as he'd just _love_ to ask him every personal question he can about his life, Tim's got his own life to worry about and it's probably got way more going on in it than Dick's. Tim's not even sure what he's going to do with his life anymore. He'd been working towards this program through all of high school and he should've been a shoe-in but he was wrong.

Exasperated, Dick rolls his eyes. So maybe Tim isn't exactly begging to be his friend yet, but he'll come around. "Well regardless of your unfortunate circumstances, Babs and I are both glad you're here."

"Thanks…and I didn't get a chance before, but thanks for the job too. I really appreciate it."

"It was no problem. I figured you were more than qualified to work a cash register. We're lucky to have you. Position's been open for over a month," he slides down from the counter with a smile and pats Tim's shoulder before walking back towards the hall, "If you still want something to read, or have any questions, you know where to find me."

"I'll make sure to knock this time."

Dick just laughs before disappearing down the hall.

* * *

It's almost five and things are picking up a little once again. He's sees about ten people that hour and it's nice to have something to do for a while. Dick doesn't come back out, in fact the only other worker he sees is Damian. He comes out to sweep the floors and wipe down some glass and the windows. He also makes a point to glare at Tim the entire time and mumble things under his breath. Tim's pretty sure he doesn't say anything nice.

The next person he sees is Barbara coming to check on him again, and he doesn't mind that much at all. "How's it going?"

"Not bad. Still managing."

"That's good. You seem to be doing well, you're a fast learner. It's almost six-thirty. You know you can take your lunch break at any time right?" He's glad it's not awkward after their encounter earlier.

He nods, "Yeah, but I'm okay. I tasted a bunch of stuff earlier and I'll probably going to start up again here pretty soon."

"Oh!" she brightens up considerably, "Did you like what you tried? What was your favorite?"

"The chocolate and peanut butter cupcakes were good and I really liked your German chocolate cake. The Boston crème pie was really good too."

Barbara smiles and giggles a little to herself, "So I take it you like chocolate then?"

"Yeah, I may or may not have a weakness for it."

"That's good to know, I'll keep that in mind." With that, she disappears and once again Tim is left alone.

He goes through the second display case, keeping strictly to his one bite rule. This time he doesn't slip up and he's pretty proud of himself. It probably has something to do with the fact that he's thinking about Barbara and not his parents or Gotham U while he does it.

The rest of the night goes well. A group of teens comes in at one point and orders a bunch of stuff. It keeps Tim occupied. He sees a few more stray clients after that and then at seven, Barbara flips the sign on the door to 'closed'.

She wipes her brow with the back her hand and lets out a quick, "_Woo!_ Not a bad day. So, what'd you think? It wasn't too hard was it? You're not going to quit on us are you?"

Ha, he wishes he was in a position too. Even though if nothing else, coming in everyday and seeing her is worth it. "Nope, at least not yet."

"Good!"

"So…is there anything you need me to do? Like clean up or something?" He knows she's likes them to be an hour early on weekends, but she didn't say how long she needs them to stay after.

"Nope. Damian will handle that. As long as everything in the drawers adds up, you're free to leave whenever. I think Dick wanted to see you before you left though."

Great, what could he possibly want? Tim nods and makes his way towards Dick's office where he's sitting at his desk, obviously waiting for him. He hopes this isn't about to take long as he pauses in the doorway. He inhales deeply before saying, "Barbara said you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah, I just need you fill this out and a signature on this stub so that I can the bank deposit your checks right into your bank account."

Okay, its business related. Tim can live with that. All he has to do is write down his account number and his full name. It's fairly straight forward. "Is that all?" he asks, sliding Dick the stub.

"Yeap," he smiles and Tim's pretty sure he even winks, "See you tomorrow."

"Um…y-yeah, see ya…"

As he walks down the hall, he briefly considers stopping in the kitchen to say bye to Jason and Damian, but decides against it. Something tells him that neither of them would be upset if he didn't. They'd probably be pissed if he did.

He walks back out to the front where Barbara is standing at the counter, a white box in her hand with a 'Barbara's' logo on it.

Tim waves as he walks past, "See you tomo-"

"Wait! Here, take this!"

He walks over, eyebrow raised and puts his hand on the lid. "What is it?"

"Open it!"

Tim complies, lifting the lid and seeing an array of chocolate desserts from the bakery sitting in it, including a healthy slice of German chocolate cake among other things. "Wh-"

"Consider it a 'thank you'," she adds. He nods, even though he didn't really do anything worth being appreciated for. "We've been trying to fill this job for a month and you did great."

"It wasn't anything special."

"Well fine, then consider it a payoff for not bringing up what you saw in Dick's office earlier."

"You still didn't have to," he laughs.

"Please, it's no bother. Besides, there aren't that many of us in total so employees eat free. You can pretty much help yourself to whatever you want at the end of the night."

He might as well not argue. They both know that he's taking the box home. She's practically insisting. If she wants to be nice, why not…well he can think of one major reason, but he did a pretty good job of controlling that all day. Eating a bunch of small samples doesn't count as a binge right? It didn't feel the same way a binge does so it can't be the same. Besides, it's not like he's going to go home at eat it all at once.

* * *

Tim pulls into the garage of his home and through the door into the house. He's hoping to see neither of his parents on his way to his bedroom, but he isn't that lucky. They're sitting in the den fully dressed and reading when he walks in. He tries to walk past, but of course his mother doesn't miss him.

"_Timothy._"

He stops dead in his tracks. He knows better than to keep walking. His mother sets her book down and looks at him, suspicion clear on her face. His father glances up and then proceeds to keep reading, as if he's not even there. He doesn't even say hi and Tim knows he isn't going to. He's still upset.

"So, how was your first day? You didn't mess up did you or managed to get fired did you?"

"N-no, it was fine," he stutters. God, his parents make him so nervous. He never wants to displease them, and he's not sure why because they clearly consider him more of a burden than they do a son. Besides, nothing he ever does or says seems to appease them. He shouldn't care or bother but he can't help it.

"Good. You didn't embarrass us did you…well no more than you already have at least?"

It stings, but the wound is fresh. He knows he's going to be getting comments like that for at least a few months, probably until after Christmas. He's not going to live down being passed up for that program so he might as well just get used to.

"No."

"Good. At least you managed to do that much. It's nice to know you're at least capable of simple tasks." His father scoffs in agreement and that's the most he's acknowledged Tim since he walk in the door. "Well, your father and I are going out to an event tonight. The driver should be here in a few minutes, so don't wait up for us. Magda left you some dinner in the kitchen or something if you're hungry."

He nods and heads towards the kitchen. He isn't really hungry, he's knows that, but suddenly he's just in the mood to eat something, a lot of something.

* * *

"No way, you walked in on it?" Stephanie laughs over the phone.

Tim's lying down in his room with his phone to his ear and the box Barbara gave him resting open on his full stomach. He's been picking at its contents as he relays his story to one of his best friends.

"Yeah, it was awkward. She was straddling him. It was like something you'd expect to see in a soft core porn."

"Ew! Don't say that! Is she at least pretty? I mean this is _Dick Grayson_. He can have almost any girl he wants right?"

"She's definitely pretty," Tim confirms, "But just because they're both good looking people doesn't make it okay. I'm pretty sure if I hadn't walked in, they were probably going to have sex on his desk."

Steph laughs and so does he. This is the most relaxed he's felt all day. At least with her he can be himself.

"So was that the only exciting thing that happened to you at work?"

"Pretty much," he states. He's already told her about most of his day. "It's not bad. Jason and Damian are both kind of scary and didn't really talk to me. Barbara is nice. She's probably my favorite of the group. Dick is…he's different."

"Different like how?" Steph's always sort of had a 'Dick Grayson' fascination. A lot of girls in Gotham do.

"I don't know. He was just way too comfortable. First, he pretty much cat-called at me when I was changing. He kept smiling and touching me all day. He was calling me Timmy like we were best friends or something. He asked me some weird questions, like if I had a girlfriend and I'm pretty sure he winked at me before I left."

"Ha!" Stephanie snorts on her end, "It sounds like he likes you!"

Tim considers the outrageous comment for a second, before brushing it off, "Yeah, I doubt it. Like I said, he's just strange. _Nice_, but strange."

"Mhmm, sure. We'll see."

"Even if he did, Barbara's more my type anyway."

"Yeah, we'll see what you're saying after Dick Grayson charms you out of your pants. Next week, you'll be the one on top of his desk."

"Okay, and this is where we drop that subject."

"Fine! Fine! But did you at least like the job for the most part?"

"It was alright. It's not like I have a choice you know? At least it's easy and I don't imagine it's going to get any harder."

"Yeah, it is just a bakery and you don't even have to bake," says Stephanie.

"Nope. This is essentially a business run by a bunch of rich kids with too much free time of their hands."

"Oh, because you're not some rich kid with too much time on your hands?"

He rolls his eyes playfully, though she can't see it. "It's not the same."

"Yeah right, but hey I have to go. I'll talk to you again tomorrow alright? Maybe I'll come visit you at your job?"

"I'd actually enjoy that, but I'll talk to you tomorrow."

He hangs up and suddenly he's alone in his room. His parents are still out, not that he plans on interacting with them again tonight anyway. He could call Bart or maybe Conner, but they're out. He would've gone, but after working tonight and knowing he has to go back tomorrow, he declined. Now he's just lying on his bed, sticking his hand into-

into an empty box.

Did he really finish off everything in it? How the hell did he let himself do that, especially after eating this junk all day at the bakery _and_ coming home to dinner?

Tim sits up pushing the box off his lap, and feeling his stomach stretch uneasily. He feels swollen, uncomfortable, like he could maybe burst at any second, but it's his fault for eating that much in the first place. It's a weird feeling, but this whole problem is weird.

At this moment, he's definitely in pain, but at the same time he feels accomplished. That's how it always starts in the beginning. Something shitty happens, usually involving his parents or in this case his parents _and_ the fact that he didn't get in the Master's program. He eats as an escape. It's a distraction and the more, the better. It's always way too much, too much for one sitting but he feels good about himself when it's over. He _likes_ it. It's comforting. Maybe his parents don't really like him and they can be kind of cruel, but food isn't ever like that. He eats, and he eats. Sometimes he doesn't realize he's doing it, but the end result is always the same. It makes him feel better.

At least until it doesn't anymore.

Like when his parents start to notice or his clothes stop fitting the same and every bite makes him feel more and more ashamed of himself for letting it get this bad in the first place. That' when the purging starts and suddenly he feels the urge to work out with every free minute he has in the day…but it pays off in the end and he's back to being his regular size and his normal self. He takes pride in knowing he can control it, or so he thinks. He's been doing this for about three years, since he was fourteen, and he hasn't been caught so he's doing something right.

It's a vicious cycle…he knows that. Every time it starts back sooner and ends worse than the last, but it doesn't stop him from doing it. It doesn't make him go get help. Tim doesn't think it's that bad. He's done well thus far. Nobody's really suspect him of being a binge eater or a bulimic or anything. So as far as he's concerned, he's okay.

He's sitting on the edge of his bed and yeah that's two binges in two days. Maybe his stomach hurts, but he's happy…

And that's how the cycle usually begins.

* * *

well i hope you enjoyed :) plz feel free to tell me what you think in a comment


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! thanks for the feedback! I loved reading the reactions and comments :) they made me smile

This story is mostly touch and go right now. I dont have the whole thing planned out just yet. Thats the reason this chp took so long. I kept changing it around until i got where i wanted. While at first I intended this to be kind of slashy and have a lot relationship drama, I'm not sure how true that will be anymore. I do intend for there to be relationship drama (cuz i just like drama :D) im not as sure about the slash anymore. Im not ruling it out, but i cant say its very likely.

I can say that I always intended for dick to be a little slick and manipulative regardless, maybe a even a little OC-ish, so thats going to stay the same. I can also say that this is ultimately a Tim/Steph story. That much i know, for the rest youll just have to read and find out :)

anyways...

i do not own young justice

* * *

2

It's about eight forty-five when he pulls into the bakery parking lot. He's early, but he doesn't mind because today he's got a book with him. He learned from yesterday, so he's a little more prepared.

He's reading for maybe five minutes when a car pulls up next to his. It's not Dick's, not that he was expecting it to be and he's happy about it. He isn't exactly ready to deal with him just yet. Instead, Barbara gets out, taps on his window and waves. There's no point in sitting out here by himself for ten minutes, especially when he could be spending time with Barbara, so he gets out of the car.

"Hi."

"You're early. Have you been sitting there long?"

He shrugs, following her inside. "Not long, like five minutes maybe."

"You don't have to show up that early. I honestly wouldn't be upset if you didn't show up exactly at nine. I'm used to being here alone. Besides, you're just cashier; there probably isn't anything for you to do anyway."

He figured as much, but he's always been fairly punctual and honestly, he just wanted to get out the house before his parents woke up with Sunday morning hangovers. Barbara stands in front of him, pulling her hair into a ponytail and slowly preparing herself to head into the back. Though he doesn't want to seem like a creep, Tim looks for a reason to stay in her company. "Well…do you need any help with whatever you're about to do?"

She seems surprised and intrigued, "Um, well sure. I was just going to make some more brownies and start on a cupcake order that's going to be picked up tomorrow. Do you know how to bake?"

"I can follow directions." Baking probably isn't that hard, but he's never really tried. Sometimes Steph lets him lick the spoons when she makes stuff, but that's only if Bart isn't around to claim it first.

"Ha! I'll take it. That's more than Dick or Damian has ever offered. I think I like you better than them already. Come on," she waves her hand and Tim follows her into the kitchen. She hands him an apron, which like everything else, sports the bakery logo. He throws it on over his shirt and waits for further instruction.

"Alright, if could bring me three eggs and a carton of milk from the fridge?" she orders while staring at a purple clipboard. She's gives him a bunch of trivial jobs after that, things that would be hard to mess up, like gathering ingredients for her and greasing pans. His mother would be proud of him.

While she's putting things in the oven to bake, he starts washing dishes and suddenly he hears her cooing excitedly behind him. "I think I'm in love."

If only. "Huh?"

"You're doing dishes willingly. I didn't even have to fight you like I do with Damian. He feels like he's too good to clean or something." Tim got that feeling yesterday, along with several other ones – none of them being nice or particularly friendly feelings.

"Then why does he work here?" If Tim remembers correctly, Damian is a freshman and Gotham Academy, so that would make him about fourteen. He's not old enough to get paid, not legally anyway. It's not like he needs the money anyway.

"His dad makes him. He kept getting into trouble at school or something, so Dick told Bruce Damian could work here on weekends and afterschool, that way someone would be keeping an eye on him. That, and Dick says he has a false sense of entitlement that he'd like to break him out of."

So his solution is to force him to do manual labor? If it works, then kudos to Dick, but the kid seems pretty set in his ways. As Babs falls in next to him, beginning to dry dishes, he asks, "Is it working?"

"Ha!" she laughs, "Well, I'm pretty sure he still thinks he's above all of us, but he doesn't demean us as much anymore and he still does his job so I don't complain."

Since they're on the subject, Tim figures he might as well go ahead and ask about Jason too. You can't ever be too prepared, you know, just in case he does ever decide to talk to him. "What about Jason? He doesn't exactly come off as any easier to get along with."

Barbara nods slightly in agreement, "Yeah, although he's actually not bad. He's in school, but he works here part time mostly just to help out. I don't think Dick would take no for an answer. I know Jason can seem a little intimidating, but he's actually really cool when you get to know him."

"And Dick?"

"What about him?"

Tim tries to think of a good way to word his question. He knows Dick and Barbara are good friends so he doesn't want to offend her. He just wants to know what else he should expect.

"Is he always so…you know, forward and like comfortable with new people?"

She gives Tim a side glance, and notices just how uncomfortable he is. She's not surprised. Dick has a way of doing that to people. "Nope," she laughs as if she knows something that he doesn't, "Only if he likes you."

Xxx

Surprisingly, Sunday is a little more exciting than Saturday was. Tim sees several families come in together and he assumes they're coming from church or heading to family dinners, but he doesn't ask. He doesn't really care enough to bother.

He's reading behind the register, minding his own business and enjoying the downtime when Dick emerges from the hall. He hasn't really been around to bug the teen yet, so he figures it's about that time.

"How you holding up?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe with his hands crossed over his chest. Tim knows it's only his second day, but Dick and Barbara don't really need to keep checking up on him…or at least Dick doesn't. If Barbara wants to keep coming out here, Tim won't stop her.

"Fine, there was a small rush earlier but it's slowed down again now. I haven't seen anyone in about forty-five minutes."

Dick nods. Tim can tell he didn't really care anyway. He probably just needed that as an excuse to bother him. He seems juvenile like that.

He walks over and stops behind Tim, "So what are you reading?"

"Frankenstein," he answers dryly, hoping the older male gets the hint, "I have to read it for my romantic lit class."

Dick opens his mouth to say something else, but the door opens and they're interrupted by the sound of a petite blond squealing, "Tim! Hey! I told you I would stop in."

While Tim noticeably perks up, Dick looks between the two of them curiously.

"Hey Steph," he starts before remembering who's behind him. He's not particularly happy about it, but he knows Stephanie is going to get a kick out of it. He points behind him, "This is um, Dick. Dick this is Stephanie."

He can see her eyes brighten up as she walks over to shake his extended hand. The older male flashes a hypnotizing smile that Tim is sure he's practiced and gives to everybody he meets, "It's nice to meet you."

He wants to laugh at the way Steph blushes, but refrains. He doesn't want to embarrass her too much. When her hand parts from Dick, she turns her attention back to Tim, "So how's it going? What's good around here? I want to try something."

"Not too bad and everything's pretty good. You'd probably like the shortcake," he points to strawberry shortcake resting on top of the display case.

"Okay, let me get a piece of that then. When do you go on break? Is it soon?"

He actually hasn't taken a break yet. He didn't see much of a point since he wasn't doing anything strenuous, but before he can answer Dick inserts, "Actually Tim's dues for a lunch break right now. If you want, I can watch the register for you?"

"Y-yeah, sure," he nods hesitantly before getting up and setting Steph's cake on a pale yellow plate. He didn't actually bring a lunch, so he cuts himself a piece of a chocolate crème cake and denies Stephanie's card as she holds it out. It irritates her when he pays for her things, but he doesn't mean it as an insult. It's just the chivalrous thing to do. Besides, his parents haven't cut off any of his credit cards yet so he might as well use them while he still can.

He pays for both, regardless of the fact that he technically eats free, and then slips away from behind the counter, leading Steph to a booth on the back wall. He notices her glance back at the register and laughs now that they're some distance between them and Dick, "So is he anymore enamoring now that you've seen him in real life?"

She glances over with a red tint to her cheeks and puts on a mock fan-girl voice, "Are you kidding me? He touched my hand."

Playfully Tim rolls his eyes. Steph's never exactly been guy crazy and he knows she isn't in love with Dick either, but sometimes he likes to make fun of her when she talks about him or shows up reading the newest tabloid with his face on it. "I'm glad I could introduce you. I'm sure I'll be seeing way more of you around the bakery then."

"Duh, you're the perfect excuse to come up here."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm an opportunist, there's a difference," she smiles before glances at Tim's plate with a frown, "You're just having cake for lunch?"

He shrugs, pushing a bite into his mouth, "Well I wasn't really planning on taking a break so I didn't bring anything. I had something before I came and I was just going to eat on my way home." He knows he should eat three square meals a day and all that, but he doesn't see the point. He's going to get all of his calories one way or another.

She shakes her head in disapproval. "You should eat better." She's always telling him that but not because she knows. He's done a good job of keeping that a secret from her. She just knows he has a certain affinity for junk food, and chocolate; and as long as he's known her, she's been trying to convince him to just be healthier in general. If she knew what he did behind closed doors, she'd probably be revolted.

He brushes it off the same way he always does, "I'll keep that in mind. So do you like it?" He motions his fork towards her shortcake.

"Yeah, it's really good. How's yours?"

"Well, you know how I feel about chocolate. You wanna taste it?" Steph just opens her mouth, which he knows as the sign for yes. They've shared food enough times in their life to know that. He grabs a piece with his fork and scoops it into her mouth waiting for her response. She moans in approval and for the next half hour they continue talking and laughing until Steph leaves and he figures he should relieve Dick of the register.

"Thanks," he offers as Dick stands up. The older male can't help but notice the change in his attitude. He's spent the last two days looking pretty much bored and indifferent so this is new.

"No problem." Tim's expecting him to leave, but of course he should know better after yesterday. Dick takes his usual seat atop the counter and raises an eyebrow.

"She was nice."

"Yeah, Steph's almost always like that."

"And pretty cute," he continues. At this Tim glances up, his eyes narrowing. Where exactly is Dick going with this? Tim is well aware of Steph's small "crush", but if he can help it, he would never let Dick anywhere near her. He's read some of the things the papers say about him and a number of women. Besides, he's in some sort of weird friends with benefits relationship with Barbara. Stephanie's been through enough in her short life, she definitely doesn't need that.

After a second Dick smirks, but it's oddly malicious, "I thought you didn't have a girlfriend?"

"I-I don't," he stammers. Of all the things Dick could've said, he wasn't expecting that.

"Hmm, really? It's just you two seem close?" They seem more than close. Dick saw the way the interacted. Tim even fed her.

Yeah, they are close, though maybe not as close as Dick and Barbara. Tim can gladly say that neither him nor Stephanie have ever crossed or even slightly blurred the lines of their friendship and he likes that. "We've been friends for a long time, nothing else."

"Oh, well I was just asking. She seemed like a nice girl was all. I was surprised."

Tim takes in a deep breath and exhales. He shouldn't ask, but if he doesn't Dick will leave it at that and he'll have no idea what the hell he means. Tim just has to make sure he and Dick are on the same page. He's definitely the kind of guy who will continue to cross lines if you don't set boundaries. "Surprised about what?"

"Just that you two weren't together. Does she have a boyfriend?"

"Why?" Tim finally asks, a little more bass in his voice than probably necessary. "Why do you care so much?"

Dick purses his lip and shrugs almost too non chalant for Tim's liking. He's getting a kick out of seeing him riled up. Seeing the teen convey any kind of real emotion is pretty entertaining. He smiles, before sliding off the counter to leave, "I don't, not really. I was just making conversation."

XXx

Dick stresses Tim out.

And he's got every intention of continuing to do so, that's clear. It's only been two days and he's not sure why the older male gets under his skin so much, but he just does. He's pushy, arrogant, nosy and Tim isn't sure what anyone could see in him other than the fact that the guy does have supermodel good looks. That can only get you so far though.

Whether or not Dick bugs him, it's five-thirty and Tim's off so he's happy. Everything seems right with the register and Barbara said that they didn't need any help cleaning up so he's on his way. Or at least he thinks he is until he sees Dick outside digging in his car. He hopes he can slip by unnoticed, maybe get off with a wave as he drives out of the parking lot, but that's out of the question.

Tim's got his hand on the door handle when Dick pops up and cocks his head to the side, "Leaving already?"

He closes his eyes in defeat and lets out a frustrated sigh. He was so close.

"I'm off."

"Doesn't mean you can't stick around for a few minutes; maybe talk with us or something. It's only five thirty-six. It just seems like the last two days you've looked like you can't wait to get out of here."

Yes and no. Tim likes Barbara. He's pretty indifferent about Damian and Jason, and he's pretty sure they feel the exact same way about him…but Dick, he's tolerable. That's it. Tim is willing to put up with him only because he has too. Once he's off work, he feels like he shouldn't be required to anymore.

"Oh, um…sorry?" He's not sure what to say. If he says what he's thinking, he might upset Dick or something. He doesn't want to do that, not only because he's one of his bosses, but because he might actually hurt his feelings. The guy hasn't done anything to deserve that. He's just annoying.

"You don't have to apologize. Is it the job?"

He has no idea why he feels bad all of a sudden, but the way Dick is looking at him likes he done something wrong is getting to him. He's a manipulator and he's good at what he does. "No, the job is fine. I ugh…I just want to get home is all."

"Okay," he says, as if he's just cutting Tim short, like he doesn't believe him.

The rational part of his mind is telling him to just go ahead and leave, but now that he's clearly upset Dick, the big child that he is, Tim feels like he should rectify the situation. "Look, I didn't mean anything by the way I've been acting. If you want me to sta-"

"No, it's fine. You're new and we're not even-I shouldn't have brought it up."

There's a silence, an awkward silence as Tim let's out on a long sigh. He's not sure how this whole job thing works, but he's pretty sure you're not supposed to hurt your boss' feelings on the second day. Being friends with them probably isn't a requirement either, but now he wishes he would've just stuck around for an extra five minutes to placate the guy.

Finally Dick closes his car door, a disappointed look on his face, "Well I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. You should probably know that we're closing early next Saturday for Gotham's General's Annual Charity Gala."

Tim nods. He knows about it. The doctors and benefactors of the hospital throw it in the beginning of every school year to raise money for destitute sick kids. He goes every year with his parents so they can look like the perfect, happy family as they donate money to something he knows they don't even care about.

"Are you going to be there?"

Tim nods again, and he's pretty sure he sees a slight smile come to Dick's previously disappointed face, "Well, I guess I'll see you there then."

One second he's upset, next he's smiling just because they're going to see each other for extended time next weekend. Like Tim said, this guy's stressful.

Xxx

"I love your new job," Steph states over the phone. Tim's got it between his shoulder and his ear as he walks around his room looking for a pair of sweats to change into.

"Is it my job you like? Or is it my boss?"

"Maybe some of both…no, mostly your boss. He was even cuter in person than he is in the papers."

He laughs, "I'm sure he'd love the compliment. He said you were cute after you left." He doesn't approve but throws it in only because he knows it'll make her day, maybe even her life.

"No way? He did? Tim, don't mess with me."

"He did, I promise."

"What were his exact words?" He's opened a Pandora's Box, he thinks as he rolls his eyes.

"Um…Something along the lines of you were nice and pretty cute."

"Oh my gosh, that's awesome. Think I have a chance?"

"I don't know. Besides, he's twenty-three, a little old don't you think?"

"I'd be willing to try," she jokes on the other end. "Oh well, he thinks I'm cute. That's good enough for me."

Tim's never actually understood why girls put so much emphasis on things like looks and validate themselves based on what other people think of them, but he doesn't question it. He just knew Steph would get a kick out of hearing that. He's probably boosted her self-esteem by several hundred percent just mentioning it, even though she really doesn't like him. He's just someone to joke about.

"Did he harass you anymore today?"

"Of course, but he didn't want anything. He never wants anything."

"Sounds to me like he just wants to be your friend."

"I don't know why? I'm not even interesting. Besides, I have friends. I don't have any open slots, unless maybe Barbara wants to fill one."

"I think you want her as more than that," she giggles.

"I wish."

"Yeah, you've got a better chance with Dick anyway," she says only because she knows it will irritate him.

Tim rolls his eyes and drags out a long sigh, "Why are we friends?"

"Because you love me and I'm probably the only one of our friends who's going to listen to you bitch and moan about you 'oh so irritating' job every night."

"Fine."

XXX

"So now you're just like the rest of us, huh?" Bart says, ruffling his shirt. He's never really been one for tucking his shirt into his pants. But if he wants to keep his track scholarship at Gotham Academy, he has to abide by the rules.

"Yeah I guess, but at least you've got track to pay your way through college next year. I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do. This job is cool, but it's not going to pay for tuition, let alone books or room and board or anything."

They're standing by Tim's locker about an hour before school ends. Unlike Steph and Conner, they both have a free period at the end of the day. While he's busy shoving books into his bag, Bart's just standing there with his empty backpack draped over one shoulder. Not only is he the fastest sprinter and long distance runner Gotham has, but he's got a ridiculous memory. He can read something and almost remember every detail. He's just lucky like that.

"So apply for a scholarship or something."

"Missed the deadline."

"Go somewhere else."

Both are good, logical suggestions, but neither exactly work for Tim. "It's a little late in the game for that. I only applied there because I pretty much thought I was guaranteed. Besides, I think my parents really want me to go to GU because it's where everyone in the family went."

Bart sighs and rolls his eyes as they start walking down the hallway towards the parking lot, "I don't get it then. Why would they just cut you off after your senior year if you obviously still need them? Maybe it was a bluff or something?"

"I doubt it."

Bart frowns a little. As long as they've been friends, he doesn't know much about Tim's parents. He's met them a few times, and they seem nice, but Tim never really has anything nice to say about them. He doesn't have much to say about how they act at all. For Tim's sake, he hopes that they're kidding, but he couldn't officially make that call either. He knows that Tim's taking this better than he, or any of their other friends would, at least on the outside. Bart can't say he'd be able to pull himself out of bed in the morning if he knew in less than a year he'd go from being spoiled rich to totally on his own with nothing but his name. Tim's resourceful and all, but he can't live like that. He's never had to. Clearly though, the realization hasn't actually hit him yet.

They're standing beside Tim's car, which Bart assumes his parents will be keeping when and if his friend decides to go to college. "Geez dude…that fucking sucks. I don't understand how you didn't get into the stupid program, but I'm sorry you didn't."

He shrugs casually, as if it doesn't bother him anymore. If Bart knows Tim as well as he thinks he does, which is fairly well, inside this is totally stressing him out. He's just trying to save face.

"It's fine. I'll figure something out and I guess I do have this job to help me out a little."

"How's that going?" Bart may not be loaded like Tim's parents, but his workout schedule has never really left time for things like jobs. He's not upset about it in the least.

"Alright. I have to do it, so it doesn't really matter if I like it or anything. Barbara, one of my bosses, is pretty hot. Dick is a little different though."

Bart knows Dick. He lives with his cousin Wally here in Gotham, who moved here and met Dick in college. They became close almost instantly and they hang out together a lot. Sometimes he'll come by the apartment but he's never really been all that exciting to Bart. He's just another one of Wally's friends. "Yeah, he's takes a little getting used to, but he's alright I guess."

"Something like that, but I'll see you later alright? I've got a stop to make before I get to work."

"That's cool. I've got to some stuff to take care of before practice anyway. We're running five miles today, should be a breeze. I ugh…I hope everything works out."

Tim waves as Bart jogs off and gets in his car. They could've talked longer, because it's not like his stop in necessary, not really. It's just after the looks Bart was giving him or hearing the tone of pity in his voice, Tim's suddenly feeling a lot worse about himself and his situation than he was before. Tim's probably living the most privileged life of all his friends and if they feel bad for him, it must be a lot worse than he already thought.

XXX

"Can I get three double cheeseburgers, two large fries, a ten piece nugget, a large root beer and six cookies," he says, sitting at the drive thru of a McDonalds up the street from his job. He's got time he can kill before he has to be at the bakery and he could use a pick-me-up after talking with Bart. The usually cheerful, carefree kid has suddenly got him thinking way too much and feeling way too down. If Bart thought his situation was unfortunate, it probably was.

Tim pulls up to the window, handing the woman one of his credit cards. He's handed his drink first, and he can see the drive thru clerk eyeing his car. She's probably wondering why there isn't another person in there if he ordered this much. It's none of her business honestly, but he doesn't say anything. He just takes his bags and drives to the bakery, parking in the back where none of his co-workers are likely to stumble upon him as he eats in his car.

This isn't the first time he's ever done this. There's a few times he remembers last year, when things were particularly bad or stressful, that he would grab something on the way home, eat it in the driveway and then go inside and have dinner. He's used to eating alone in his car. It's weird at first, maybe even a little pathetic and disappointing too, but after his upbringing, he's used to feeling both of those things.

He reads while he eats. It's almost sick how casual he looks as he eats twice as much as a person his size should in one sitting. A passerby might almost think it was normal. It doesn't take him long to finish. By now, he's worked up a pretty good pace when it comes to these things. When you're trying to hide it from people, you have to be good about it. He finishes with about ten minutes to spare before he's supposed to start working. His stomach hurts and Tim wants nothing more than to sit in his car and take a nap, but he has to go in. His parents would probably murder him if he didn't.

If nothing else, he does feel better. It's almost like he's on a high. He's happier than an hour ago. He's more relaxed and feeling less stressed out and depressed. The meal was comforting and at least until he gets off, he'll be able to focus on something other than the rejection letter he got from Gotham U or his parents cutting him off. It's just an all-around euphoric sort of vibe. He imagines this is what alcoholics feel after a drink, or an addict feels like after doing drugs…except maybe on a larger scale, because it's just food.

He takes a deep breath, or at least as much of breath as he can manage when he's this full, and reaches his arm into the back seat to grab a shirt for work. He swaps shirts and shoes, for a pair of black converse he has in the back. Then he takes his trash and balls it up, throwing it in the back seat of his car.

Tim stands, careful not to move to fast, and lethargically drags his feet towards the doors of the bakery. He feels stuffed, but he likes the feeling. It's better than the shit he's been feeling lately. Though walking is kind of uncomfortable right now, once he gets to his post, he'll be fine. If today is anything like the last two days, he won't be busy anyway.

XXX

"Everything alright with you today?" Barbara asks, flipping the sign from 'open' to 'closed'. "Damian said you looked tired while he was cleaning."

Tim's sitting on his chair, his chin resting atop his arms on the counter. He raises his eyebrows skeptically. He can't see Damian saying something so…nice about him. The only thing he's heard him say the past two days have been insults. He gets the feeling to kid doesn't like him much.

"Well, he might have said something more along the lines of lazy and incompetent, but I wouldn't say all that. You just look a little worn out."

Yeah, well stuffing your face right before you walk into work will do that to you. Tim found himself feeling sluggish the entire time and of course today there was actually a rush of people, or well teenagers. It seems an abundance of high school and college age kids like to come in after classes and grab something. He figured weekdays would be slower than weekends but obviously not.

"Oh, sorry. I just had a long day at school," he lies. It's just a lot easier to lie. It's better than saying what he was really doing. They wouldn't understand.

Barbara frowns, looking sympathetic. He likes the look on her, at least when it's directed towards him. She walks to the counter, leaning forward and probably unaware that at his angle, Tim can totally see down her shirt. To be polite, he sits up, despite the fact that he's still pretty uncomfortable from earlier.

"Would a piece of fresh triple chocolate cake make you feel better?"

He winces slightly. Of course he wants it, but he knows he shouldn't. It's the last thing he needs. He knows better, but that's never stopped him before. He always knows better and he does it anyway.

"Oh come on," she begs, brushing her hand down his arm, "I was just about to have one, join me?"

Finally he gives in. He's still got this under control. So he's binged a few times, no big deal. It's not going to get any worse than this. He's is not going to let it get out of hand this time, no matter what's going on in his life. "Alright, sure."

A smile beams across her face, and he's kind of mad that Barbara doesn't really even have to try to get him to concede like that. Between her looks and the chocolate, it was practically inevitable. He watches her as she comes behind the counter and cuts one slice instead of two, "I thought we could share. Less dishes."

He just nods and follows her to a booth, sitting down across from her. She hands him a fork and takes the first bite, "Mmm…this is good. Jason made it."

Tim forks a piece into his own mouth and it practically melts on contact. "Oh wow, he's this good?"

"Yeah, you'd be surprised. This is actually his recipe. He's got a few things of his own on display and sometimes his butler gives him a recipe to come in and share. He's got a real knack for it."

The teen would've never guessed. He figured Jason was an assistant at best, maybe doing the same things Barbara had him doing yesterday morning. He didn't think Jason would actually be this good. His cake is amazing. Tim regrets ever tasting it because now he doesn't want to stop.

"I wouldn't have thought. I haven't really talked to him much yet."

"Yeah, he and Damian aren't the easiest people to get along with at first. It's just because you're new. They'll get used to you. They have to, because I like you too much to let you go anyway."

His cheeks start to get a little hot as she smiles at him. "That's ugh, good to know."

"Yeah it is. You can feel comfortable knowing that you have job security here after only three days. You should be proud of yourself."

He almost wants to laugh. He should be proud of himself for this? If only life was that simple. Tim's pretty sure he could cure cancer and his parents still wouldn't be proud of him. They'd probably just ask why he hadn't cured AIDs too.

Looking down, he sees that they're about half way done. Well technically, he was done before they started honestly, but he keeps eating so that Barbara isn't eating by herself.

She slides a piece of cake into her mouth before cocking her head to the side, "So I know it's only been three days, but are you liking it so far?"

He feels oddly comfortable with Barbara. She's easy to talk to, but that might not mean much. Dick is kind of easy to talk to too and Tim hasn't decided whether he's a fan of him or not yet. He takes a forkful of cake to his mouth, frosting grazing the side of his lips slightly "Yeah. It's pretty straight forward and easy. I'm not going to quit or anything."

An almost Dick-esque smirk comes to her face and reaches out, brushing her finger over the frosting on his lip and bringing it to her mouth, "Well, that's good to know."

He's cheeks are getting redder and hotter, to the point where he has to look away so she won't see what she's doing to him. It's as he's blushing stupidly and they're sharing this moment and this cake, that he just has to look towards the back that he sees Dick standing in the doorway watching them…

And he hasn't seen that look before on him, but Tim's pretty sure Dick isn't happy.

Xxx

Come Friday, Tim's got the hang of the weekday afterschool rush. It isn't bad anymore and like every other day, it's just a breeze and easy money. He still hasn't made any real contact with Damian or Jason, though Damian still mutters insults about him being incompetent or unnecessary whenever he and Tim are in the same room, so that isn't really new. What is however, is the fact that Dick hasn't seemed to bother him much at all this week. He hasn't stopped in every hour on the hour like he was Tim's first few days. He hasn't bugged him much at all, so when Barbara continues to ask him to spend time with her at the end of each day laughing and splitting a dessert, he doesn't decline. Why not? He likes spending time with her. She's nice and she's gorgeous. It's always a win. At least it is until Friday night when Tim goes to leave after he and Barbara finish up.

Tim's got his hand on the door, ready to walk out of the bakery. Barbara's taken their plate back to be washed and he thought he was going to slip out unnoticed. He should've known better. He can't remember the last time he got what he wanted.

"So it's just me you don't want to hang out with after work, or ever, huh?"

Reluctantly he turns around. He's tired he just wants to go home. This isn't a good time. "What? Why does it matter? Did I hurt your feelings or something?"

Dick is only a few feet in front of him when he turns around. He's got his hands in his pockets and just lets out a short laugh, "I'm not sure what you think of me Timmy, but my feelings aren't bruised that easily."

Is he kidding? Tim can swear he looked hurt the other day when he refused to stick around and talk to him. As far as he's concerned, Dick is immature and he's letting his personal feelings get in the way of their non-existent friendly relationship.

"So what is this about then? Barbara?" Maybe he's just incredibly territorial? Not that there's a reason to be. Barbara isn't interested in Tim, he doesn't think. They've been sharing some pastries after work. So maybe he has a small crush of her, but it doesn't matter because clearly she and Dick are interested in each other regardless of their "just friends" status.

"No, this isn't about Barbara; though it's completely obvious you're interested in what I have."

Tim isn't sure what to make of the direction this conversation is taking. Dick doesn't look or sound mad, or even upset, but somehow his words are suggesting something completely different.

"Okay, look I'm sorry for whatever I did to you but-"

Dick slants his head and shrugs as if he has no idea what Tim is going on about, "But what?"

"But I'm not here to make friends, hang out or whatever else okay? I'm just here to work a cash register and I think the line between co-workers and friendship is getting really blurry really fast. I'm not sure if I offended you or-"

"You know I did you a favor, right?"

Tim's taken back. Dick just cuts him off and that's what he says. It's like he's holding it over his head suddenly. Is he really this upset because he didn't stick around the other night to hang out with him? It can't be that serious. He can't be this childish.

"Um yeah, and like I said before, I totally appreciate that."

"So act like it."

"Uh…" This might be the most confusing conversation with most confusing person he's ever had. It's almost as stressful as being around his parents, but at least his parents are straight forward. He's not sure what Dick is trying to get at or what he's upset about but Tim's starting to feel like he's being challenged and he doesn't like it much. "What is this about? Because I don't think you've made that clear and I'm not sure if we're even close to being on the same page."

He's trying to be civil, but he'd much rather tell Dick to fuck off. So because he doesn't want to be his new bestest friend or something, the guy's going to pull rank over him? He's lucky that he's his boss or Tim would really speak his mind.

"I'm pretty sure you understand what I'm saying."

"If you're telling me that you're jealous because I spent some time with Barbara instead of you, then yeah I totally get what you're saying, but you can't tell me what I can and can't do or who I can and can't hang out with."

Dick rolls his eyes and lets out a condescending laugh, "I can't?"

Tim narrows his eyes as Dick continues.

"I'm just saying…I'm pretty sure you need me more than I need you. It's not like I don't have options. I could give your job to Damian if I wanted. But then where would that leave you? I mean, your parents would be pretty upset if you lost your job right, a job as easy as this that was pretty much handed to you. Haven't you screwed up enough?"

The younger teen opens his mouth but doesn't say anything at first. He's almost awestruck. After a second of gathering his composure and getting over the fact that Dick sounds just like his parents he asks, "Are you threatening me?"

"No, I don't have to threaten you. I'm just stating facts. Your parents are cutting you off. You needed a job. I gave you a job. Yes, while this place is technically called Barbara's, who do you think paid for everything and handles all of the money? Me. So it would behoove you to stay on my good side, wouldn't it? Unless you want to disappoint your parents more than you already have."

Tim wants to say something. He honestly wants to hit Dick, but he can't. This guy has a point. He does need Dick more than Dick needs him. That's obvious. At any moment, regardless of Barbara's input apparently, he could let Tim go and God only knows what his parents would do to him after that. His dad still hasn't looked at him the same since he got his non-acceptance letter last week.

As much as he doesn't want to say it, at this point Tim almost needs Dick to like him; and he at least has to pretend to like Dick. Maybe he should've been pretending from the beginning?

"I don't understand what you want from me…" he finally says, letting out a sigh of submission. This entire conversation has totally caught him off guard and dampened his mood, especially because Dick's winning; but what can Tim do? He's not the one holding the cards. He's the one with the most to lose.

"I don't want anything from you Timmy. Maybe you haven't noticed yet, but there isn't much you can give me that I don't already have. I'd like for us to get along though, and for you to stop treating me like you're better than me or something," he states, "Because you're not."

He's not sure whether or not that's meant to be an insult, but all Tim can do at this point is nod. He would've never imagined that Dick has this side to him, but then again there's probably a lot he doesn't know about him. He did graduate with a master's in business and Tim would've never in a million years guessed that. He would've never expected encounter this to happen and it did…he also didn't expect to not get into the Master's program and that happened.

He should probably just stop expecting things.

"I…um…well if that's it, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" This is awkward, like ridiculously so. The only thing he wants to do is get off this property and as far away from Dick Grayson as possible, which really isn't that far because they live fairly close to each other. Either way, not being able to see him is good enough.

While he doesn't exactly have a firm grip on what just happened, Tim does know one thing. This isn't his game, its Dick's, and he's obviously going to have to play by his rules if he even wants to have a chance at finishing. Not winning – because that's definitely not going to happen. He'll just be happy if he can make it through the rest of the year without being let go.

"I won't be in tomorrow actually. I'll be busy with Bruce, getting ready for the event," his voice is pretty level and plain up until this point, but then he's smiling and offering a slight wave, "I'll see you there."

Tim can't get out of there any faster. He opens the door and leaves, getting into his car. Before he can gather the composure to actually pull off, he finds himself gripping the wheel with his hands.

What the fuck just happened?

It's like one second he was fine and he thought everything was working out, then the next everything is going to shit. He still has no clear idea what he did to upset Dick, but he wishes he'd never done it whatever it is. This definitely wasn't worth it, not if being at work is going to be just like being at home. He has enough on his plate with trying to please his insatiable parents. He doesn't need the extra stress of trying to please Dick too…but he can't do anything about it. He's managed to dig himself into a hole that wouldn't even be beneficial to dig himself out of. He hadn't known who he was dealing with and now he was just as screwed as he was before. So much for an easy job…

After several minutes replaying what had just happened in his head, he finally pulls off. His intention was to drive home but he doesn't end up there. This will be the second time this week. It's starting to add up, become more frequent, just like it always does before it starts to get bad.

He turns into a parking lot, pulling into an all too familiar path and stopping next to a menu he's probably seen thousands of times. A voice comes up and asks him how he's doing, but he doesn't bother to give them a real answer. He's not there for friendly conversation.

He can't do anything to Dick, so he does it to himself instead.

"Yeah, can I get…"

* * *

well, i hope you enjoyed this. id love to hear what you think...preferably all good things :)


	3. Chapter 3

…this is the second time I've done something like this in two stories lol it's starting to feel like I'm getting worse at my job instead of better haha but I like responding to people

**To BecauseImBatman**

**Hi I got your comment and I really wished I could've like PM'd you or something but I at least felt like you took the time to read my story and write this so I should def. respond. Plus I'm sure you're not the only person feeling this way.**

**Trust me, I knew I was going to get this comment eventually about dick's character lol I was just waiting for it. I love dick as much as the next person and I know in this story his character is a little strange. I've tried to write him closer to character for my Wally stories, but in those I also use him differently. I know he's a lot more complex than just a pretty face or the paparazzi's pretty boy, for sure. I've always tried to do as much research as possible on every character I take interest in but when I was kind of thinking up this story, Dick worked best for the kind of conniving playboy character that I needed to butt heads with Tim. Of course this is an AU, so I took liberties so in this Dick is kind of like that type cast character in movies_, the arrogant rich kid_, but there's reason for that. And Dick has friends, he doesn't need any or anything, you'll see later that he's actually fairly popular. Dick is still his usual, loving, charming self…just not towards Tim. That's partially because they come from the same circle, so he doesn't have to impress him or act differently towards him, if you get what saying? Part of it has to do with Tim's family and there's also some other plot reasons I'm working on that haven't come out yet to show why dick is the way he is towards Tim specifically.**

**But essentially at this point, Dick _seems_ weird, because he's (for a lack of better words) fucking with Tim and he's doing things he's sure will bother Tim specifically, but it comes off like Dick is strange because from this story is mostly from Tim's perspective and as far as Tim's concerned, Dick is just this really irritating, really weird, spoiled idiot and so that's how you're supposed to see him too. But trust me when I say Dick is smart and always working an angle, he knows exactly what he's doing and why he's doing it.**

**I also know that Tim's parent weren't abusive, but well none of the other robins I wanted to use or really had parents anyway…plus on young justice Tim came off as a little insecure at first and that's why I wanted to use him for this story. I needed his parent's to be super assholes to kind of show why he's the way he is, because in this story it's pretty much their fault. Dick isn't the main villain of the story, the parents are. Though Tim isn't totally innocent in all of this, which you'll see later**

**With this said, thanks for the compliments I'm glad you like my work and Decisions, but I wrote two wally stories and I just really wanted to try new characters and an AU where I could play around with some stuff, so this is all like new for me and just touch and go you know? I appreciate the time you took to write this and I hope I answered you well enough and that I didn't sound harsh myself or anything. I'm sure a lot of people are wondering what's going on with dick and its hard, because I know what's going on with him in my head but it's too early in the story to reveal yet :/ If you stick around 'til the end, I've got some pretty good drama planned. I just hope you can manage to bear with me through all the craziness, because this is a drama, so I do intend for it to get a little crazy…but all in a good way**

Anyways, heres the new chp. Not a lot of bakery action, but some some interactions with Jason and damian this chp so yay just in case any of you were wondering when and how they would come into play. Here's just the beginning. I hope things aren't moving too slow for you guys, but if they are please feel free to say something in the comments

I do not own young justice

* * *

3

The last thing he wants to do is go to work, whether he gets off early or not. After last night's conversation with Dick, Tim's not sure if he even wants to work there anymore. The guy totally flipped out on him. He even told him that his job could easily be given to Damian at any time. How is Tim supposed to feel comfortable after hearing something like that?

The only thing that makes his day a little better is knowing that he won't have to see Dick during work hours because he won't be around. He won't be forced to have an awkward conversation with him or feel like he has to apologize again for whatever it is that he did. He won't have to see the older male again until tonight and if he's lucky, he'll totally be able to avoid him there too. It shouldn't be hard. He's gone to tons of these things and hardly ever had to talk to Dick Grayson. Unless Dick personally seeks him out tonight, he should be fine.

* * *

Tim stares out the window of his parent's car, dreading the next few hours. He's never really been a fan of these events; but as much as they'd probably like to, his parents never let him stay home. His father still hasn't made an effort to say much of anything to him and Tim's starting to wonder if he's ever going to talk to him again. His mother however, is running through the same rules she always does before they go to an event. They've been doing this for years. He's pretty sure he's got it down by now...

"And don't talk to anyone who doesn't talk to you first."

"Mhmm."

"Don't touch or break anything."

"Uh-huh."

"Make sure to say Timothy when you introduce yourself, not Tim or whatever else you have people call you these days."

"Got it."

"Don't say any more than what's asked of you. We don't need you babbling and saying something stupid. Don't bother us if you see us talking with anyone unless we call you over specifically and most important-"

"Don't embarrass you. I know mom."

Janet Drake looks over the seat and gives her son the once over. As she straightens his black bow tie, she adds, "And tries to refrain from calling us mom or dad if at all possible. It sounds too informal, like we don't have control of you or something. Mother and father are far more appropriate."

That rule is new. Sometimes she does that though, declares a new one if she thinks of it. Tim just complies, it's easier.

"Okay."

A few moments later they're pulling in front of grand looking building downtown and his father is handing the valet his keys. There's an over-abundance of bright lights and people in red carpet style attire. Tim generally wears black and white. It's always a classic for him, but the women are incredibly extravagant, his mother included. They take this as a chance to show off –who's got more money, who's more attractive, and anything else you can compare with just a glance. Tim's seen some pretty cute girls go all out at these things, but most of them go to his school, so when it's all said and done, he could honestly care less.

They walk in and it's just like any other event, it's showy and over the top. The room is huge and glowing a soft gold with red accents. There's the usual band playing low ambiance music in the corner. There's plenty of overly decorated tables for people to sit at plus tables upon tables of food, an area that's set off for dancing, and the stage in the back where someone will probably thank them all for coming at some point later in the night. Tim's looking forward to that part because it means it's almost over and he can stop pretending he actually wants to be here.

The beginning always starts the same – he walks around with his parents as they greet people until they tell him to go away. He sees several people he recognizes like the mayor and other people who work at his father's company. They say their 'hello's' and keep moving. Everything is going fine until they run across a group of socialites standing in the middle of the room. Tim's familiar with most of them like The Belmonts, who have a family history in banking; or Mrs. Frontonac who has an affinity for diamonds and wears hundreds of thousands worth to all of these events and Peter Savage, whose family help found the city, along with several others. All of whom are rich and most of which are arrogant.

Tim assumes this is the part where his parents are going to tell him to leave, but then he hears someone in the group call his name.

"Timothy Drake! How are you doing? I haven't seen you since the last event," Mrs. Frontonac says to him.

He smiles at her politely, not saying much other than that for fear of pissing his parents off. They're standing on either side of him, forcing smiles on their faces but cringing on the inside he's sure.

"Yes, it has been a while," Peter Savage states with mock interest, "I heard you applied to the Master's program at Gotham U through a friend on the committee. Following in the Drake family footsteps I see. Have you gotten your letter back yet?"

Jack and Janet both stare back at Peter and he has a look on his face like he wants to laugh. It doesn't take a genius to know what he's doing. Tim picked up on it the moment he opened his mouth. Peter knows he didn't get in, _obviously_ – he has a friend on the committee. He probably just wants to embarrass him or his parents or both, these people are petty like that. Tim finds that a lot of his parents "friends" aren't big fans of his anyway, given that he outshines most of their kids and family members at Gotham Academy quite easily. It's like it's always a competition at these things.

He takes a deep breath before answering, "Yes, I actually got my letter back last week. I wasn't accepted."

Without being noticed, his mother slips her hand into has and slowly begins to dig her freshly manicured fingernails into the skin of his hands.

Mrs. Belmont is the next to speak, artificial sympathy spread all over her face, "Oh really? But my kids tell me you're at the top of you class, how unfortunate. My oldest applied and got his acceptance letter just the other day."

Of course Tim already knew this. He's in the same class as her oldest son. He's essentially an idiot and one of those kids who would never make it in life if they didn't have their family name to fall back on. Everyone in the city knows it.

"What are you going to do now? Did you apply anywhere else?" her husband asks, "I heard you got minimum wage a job at a bakery. Are you considering a career in baking or is this just some sort of new hobby of yours?"

Tim glances over, seeing his father slowly bring his eyelids together, probably praying for this conversation to end. He knows exactly how his father feels. Tim would rather be struck by lightning than continue this. He tries to think of answer that isn't going to make his parents want to kill him later, but he's pretty sure they already do. Just the fact that he didn't get into the program is embarrassing enough and clearly everyone is laughing about it behind their backs.

"Well, I did get accepted into Gotham U so I plan on attending and then I'll see from there. Maybe I'll reapply. I'm not sure. And yes, I am spending my free time working for Mr. Wayne's son at his bakery as a cashier. It's just something to do with my spare time."

Before anyone else can open their mouths, his mother has a tight grip on his shoulder and is pushing them in another direction, "Speaking of Mr. Wayne, I see him on the other side of the room and we've got ventures we need to discuss with him. It was nice to see you all and we'll have to get together again later in the night."

While his mother does lead them across the room, it isn't to Mr. Wayne. She takes them down a hallway and towards several rooms that clearly aren't being used in this building tonight. When she's sure it's just the three of them, she raises a hand and brings it down swiftly across his cheek.

Immediately he draws his hand to his face and looks up at his parents. His mother's expression is clearly infuriated while his father looks indifferent. He's not even looking at Tim. It's almost like he doesn't want to be anywhere near him at this point.

"The one thing you're supposed to do is _not_ embarrass us and it's the first thing you accomplish!" she hisses through gritted teeth. She draws he hand up the bridge of her nose as Tim gathers up the nerve to reply.

"That wasn't my fault."

"Of course it wasn't. If you had actually gotten into the program in the first place we wouldn't even be having this conversation. God, I'm sure everyone is just relishing in your failure and laughing behind our backs. Thanks to you, we're probably the laughing stocks of the entire community. Your father did all of the work and you still-_damn it Timothy_, _you just_-thank you for this. Thank you for embarrassing your father and me. I'm sure we'll be hearing about your shortcomings all night now."

"Ahem," Jack Drake clears his throat, and Tim thinks he's actually going to address him for the first time in a week. He doesn't, he turns towards Janet and point back towards the main room, "I need to get a drink. I'll see you back out there."

She nods dismissively and glares at her son, "For once I wish we would've actually left you at home. Compose yourself and come on. Hopefully they've had their fun and no one else will bring it up tonight."

He falls in line behind his mother, because he doesn't really have any other options. What else is he supposed to do? He can't exactly salvage the night. It's already ruined by the fact that he couldn't manage to get into the Master's program and everyone there knows it. It's not like he could help that though. He didn't tell everyone about the failure. Word just got around, it happens.

They walk back into the room and his mother leans into his ear, "Perhaps you should make yourself scare? I'd prefer not to see you for the rest of the night, if at all possible."

He takes the hint and makes sure to walk in the opposite direction of his mother, trying to figure out what to do now. He sees several kids from school that he wants nothing to do with. Odds are if their parents know, then they know too and they're probably take pleasure in failings just like they are. He doesn't need or want that. He never makes it a point to socialize much at these things anyway. Occasionally, Conner shows up to an event, because his dad sometimes covers these things for the newspaper. Those are the best nights, but it doesn't happen as often as Tim would like, tonight for example.

While he probably _should_ go find some people his own age to talk to, just to please his parents, he decides against it. It wouldn't be hard. He's had his fair share of girls attempt to flirt with him over the years, probably because of who his parents are, but he's never taken the bait. Tonight, like most other ones, he's more than likely going to find a table to sit at by himself and read the book he has tucked in his pocket…but only after he makes a stop by the food tables. He needs something to take the edge off of the terrible night he's having and make him feel a little better.

There's always a ton of food, that's a given. From caviar appetizers to chicken florentine and prime rib to decadent chocolate ganache covered cakes, he can find and eat pretty much whatever he wants to his heart's content.

And he does.

* * *

What makes it easy is the fact that no one is really looking for him. He'd managed to fade into the background at the hospital event and has been eating in peace for about the last forty-five minutes. He's almost done with what is around his sixth or seventh full plate, he's lost count at this point, when he heard someone talk to him for the first time since his mother told him to pretty much leave her alone for the rest of the night.

"_The amount of food I've watched you consume since you started is utterly repulsive." _

The self-satisfied voice only belongs to one person. He doesn't really have to look up to know. The same voice has been condescending him all week.

He glances up at Damian and rolls his eyes. He could care less if this kid saw him. It's not like the kid really likes him and Tim doubts he even cars enough about his health to say anything about this little binge to anyone, if he's even aware of the fact that that's what Tim is doing. As far as he knows, Tim is just hungry.

"Well nobody asked you to stand there and watch, did they?" he deadpans. He isn't in the mood for this. He's having a shitty night and he's willing to bet money that Damian only came over to make it worse. He hasn't bothered to directly address him before, not even at work, and the only reason he's talking to him now is to insult him.

He looks Tim up and down and scoffs, "I didn't know they let children like you attend these functions now. Are you here to share some heartwarming story in the hopes that it will convince us to take pity upon you and your friends?"

He looked up at Damian eyeing him and stared incredulously. _Children like him?_ Who, hospital children? Was he implying that Tim was sick and destitute_ looking_ like one of the kids that this money was going to help, like a child with a disease or something? Maybe he was, but after a second of staring at him, Tim decided that the youngest Wayne's question was dead serious.

Damian cocked his head to the side, his own gaze never leaving Tim's. He was waiting for an answer and the longer it dragged out, the more irritated he became as if Tim was wasting his time. Dick was right about one thing. This kid really did have a false sense of entitlement.

"Do I look sick to you?" The older teen finally asks. Thank God he wasn't. He couldn't imagine hearing Damian actually talk to one of the children this money was benefitting if this was how he acted. It was obvious that Damian didn't believe him, so he tries a different approach. "We go to school together."

Still nothing.

"We work together."

Damian shrugs, "So? Isn't it common for regular teenagers to get part time jobs?"

Tim didn't even bother to ask what he meant by _regular_. "We live down the street from each other."

Once again, he didn't seem to be convincing him of anything. Bruce Wayne's youngest son didn't just hate him for taking a job he felt entitled to, he hated him for being _regular_ and taking the job, only he _wasn't_. They lived in the same social circle. Damian just thought he was regular, probably because he was too arrogant to bother to notice Tim around before.

Growing frustrated, Tim exhaled and pointed across the room. "Those are my parents, over there."

He watched as Damian reluctantly glanced over his shoulder before looking back at him and then over his shoulder once more. When he finally settled on Tim, his eyebrows were drawn up in confusion. "The Drakes…are _your_ parents?"

"Yes. They are."

"They don't _talk_ about you like they're your parents."

"I'm surprised they talk about me at all."

"They don't say nice things," Damian informs and that almost kind of hurts because Damian himself isn't really known to say nice things.

At this point though, Tim could care less what Damian thinks of him. It's not like it matters. If he has to worry about anybody, it would probably be Dick; and that's only because of the conversation they had last night. When the younger teen doesn't say anything back, Tim gets up and heads back towards the food. He saw a piece of cake earlier that looked amazing and has been pretty much calling his name all night. He isn't expecting the kid to follow him to the table, trailing behind his heels. He doesn't seem particularly interested in what Tim's doing. In fact his next question suggests he's following him for a completely different reason.

"Do you even know what they say about you when you're not around?" It's like he's teasing. He _wants_ Tim to ask.

Tim rolls his eyes and focuses on getting a slice of cake onto a plate. If Damian thinks he's going to get a rise out of him or hurt his feelings, he's not. He can say whatever he wants, but he probably doesn't know that Tim's heard it all before from his parents own mouths.

"_Well…_" prods Damian when he doesn't get an answer. This kid is a persistent one, especially considering they haven't really talked before this.

"How could I possibly know what they say about when I'm not around? _I'm not around_." Tim answers before taking a moment to test the frosting of his cake with his finger. Damian is starting to look particularly fed up at this point. "But just for you I'll take a guess, they probably say that I'm some sort of disappointment or that I'm difficult or something along those lines; and then they go on to list the reasons why, which probably consist of every time I've ever failed or messed up in life. Then they finish off by comparing me to other kids and how they wish I wasn't such a screw up or something like that. Am I right?"

He's practically got it memorized at this point. Nothing they could say would come as a surprise. At first it was a surprise that they said those things to other people, but even now he's used to it. It still sucks, but at least by now he's old enough to realize that it's probably never going to change. The last chance he had was the master's program and he already screwed that up.

Damian looks pretty surprised though. He even stands there for a second after Tim starts to make his way back to the table. He only makes it a few steps before he's being followed by the little urchin again and this time he takes the seat across from him.

"How did _you_ know?" he asks, an almost disappointed look on his face like Tim just took all the joy out of it.

Tim gives him a sideways glance before delving into his cake. He isn't about to waste his time entertaining Damian. Clearly all the kid wanted to do was make him feel bad about himself, and since he's failed at that, he might as well just go away and let Tim binge in peace. He's not afraid the kid is going to expose him or anything, but it's just weird having somebody watch you eat this much at one time. It definitely makes him feel a little embarrassed.

Damian sits there, scowl on his face from being ignored. He isn't really used to being treated this way and he doesn't like it in the least. It's bad enough when Dick or Jason grow irritated with him or challenge him, but this guy? It's just unacceptable.

"I asked you a question."

He sets his fork down and looks up with a raised brow. "Do you want something? Or did you just come over here to bother me, because I'm busy."

"I definitely did not come over here to be ignored," Damian answers before taking a hand to Tim's plate and sliding it out of his range. He seems to take amusement in how upset the older boy now looks.

Tim stares over at his plate and then shifts a glare towards Damian. The kid's lucky he doesn't want to lose his job, or Tim would probably kill him. "_What_ do you want? God, between you and your brother-"

"Between you and your brother _what_?" Tim hears from behind him and internally he cringes. Of course he would just have to show up and at now of all times.

A few seconds later Dick is sitting across from him with that obnoxious smile plastered on his face. Tim just rolls his eyes. Who knows what the hell Dick wants now? After last night, Tim was kind of hoping he would never talk to him again. They were having a fight…weren't they?

"Nothing. It was nothing. I'm gonna-" he starts, going to move his chair, but he's cut off.

"Going somewhere already?" asks the oldest male as he places a hand around Damian's shoulder. He scowls but doesn't make an effort to move. "I thought we could all talk for a second…unless there are hard feelings from yesterday? I hope you're not still upset about that. It was just a small misunderstanding and we're both adults, _right?_ No hard feelings?"

It doesn't sound like an attempt to clarify so much as it sounds like a challenge, but Tim doesn't react. He glances between Damian and Dick and then his piece of cake last. He just had to have that slice didn't he? Now he was stuck here sitting in front of these two. _Great_. What are they even going to talk about? He mentioned yesterday. He thought maybe Dick would apologize for what he said? But that obviously isn't going to happen. He mentioned it much too casually for it to be that.

Clearly he's just going to blow it off like it wasn't a deal and if that's how he wants to play it, Tim can get over it. He's not about to be childish and pout about it, which is what he's assuming Dick wants. He doesn't really want to buy into these mind games, but it's not exactly his choice right now. Tim knows that technically he could just get up, walk away, and be completely justified in doing so, but he just doesn't want to give Dick any reason to hold it against him later, so he stays. He's honestly too full and uncomfortable to really get up and walk around a bunch anyway. He might as well just stick around and see what Dick wants, at least to keep his job if nothing else. He'll entertain him for now, at least until something better comes along.

"O-okay…talk about _what?_"

"Are you really going to make me choose a specific topic?" The younger male just rolls his eyes. Hopefully if he just makes this as difficult as possible Dick will go away, and maybe even take Damian with him. Instead of giving up, Dick sighs, "Okay…well, why are you sitting here scowling at Damian when there's entire event going on behind you? Aren't you having a good time?"

Tim looks around the room as if he's confirming that he's actually still at said event. How could he forget? Indifferently he shrugs, "I don't know. I'm just really not into these things."

A smirk comes to Dick's face, "You're not into giving back and raising money to help sick children?"

"What? N-no, it's not that at all just-" he starts to defend and Damian scoffs from beside his older brother.

"Pssh, _Drake_ here was much more interested in the spread than he was in anything going on at this pretentious event."

One of Dick's eyebrows slides up and Tim feels his face getting a little hotter. "Oh…well did you try the cake?"

"Um yeah…" he starts while lowering his face. He doesn't want either of them to notice how uncomfortable he suddenly is. It's like all the food he ate is starting to feel like a lead weight in his already aching stomach, but this isn't the worst thing that could happen. It's not like they _know_. That would be bad. That would lead to people finding out, him embarrassing his parents even more, him embarrassing himself. It just wouldn't go over well, so he tries to play it off as casually as possible. "I was just starting to enjoy it before Damian took it I guess."

The youngest male grins and Dick shoots him slight glare. With the sole purpose of irritating him, Dick places a hand on Damian's head and ruffles his hair, "Yeah, sorry about that. Sometimes little D here still has boundary issues. We're trying to work on that."

"It's fine."

"I'm sure he'd love to give it back to you or get you a new piece, wouldn't he?"

He grumbles and rolls his eyes, clearly uninterested in doing either of those things. "Do I have to?"

Dick's about to tell him yes, but Tim reluctantly stops him. As much as he'd like it, Damian's already made him too uncomfortable to finish his meal. Honestly, he knows he's probably had more than enough anyway. "It's fine really. I probably wasn't going to finish it anyway."

"Oh, well if you're done, why don't you walk around with us for a while? Better than sitting by yourself right?"

No, at least that's what Tim thinks at first. Just because he's talking to Dick at this moment doesn't mean he actually wants to spend the rest of the night. Plus, he really doesn't want to get up, not after everything he ate. However, he never wants to have a conversation with Dick like the one he had last night so he nods and stands up after the two brothers and tags along behind them.

His stomach hurts so he's walking slower than usual and he's bored out of his mind as they move through the crowd, eventually making their way towards Jason on the other side of the room as he sips a drink in his hand.

"So this is where you wandered off to?" Dick smirks at his middle brother as they walk up.

Jason shrugs non chalant, "I didn't really wander off anywhere. I've been in the same spot for most of this pointless event, _minding my own business by myself_."

"That's no way to spend the night. You might as well try and enjoy it."

Jason looks between all three of them and rolls his eyes, "I get the feeling you're the only one of the four of us who actually cares."

Damian lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath which makes Dick frown.

"We come to these things all the time Dick. They're all the same."

"I think I would know, but it doesn't keep me from at least putting a smile on my face and talking to people."

"I talked to all of the important people, don't worry. Now I'm riding out the rest of the night over here trying not to be bothered. I might even pick up a girl if I feel like it."

"You are so difficult," Dick says, but in a more playful manner. Jason lets out a small laugh as the corner of his lips curl up.

"I don't want to expose Damian to anymore of your pessimistic attitude at such a young age. Come on, let's go find Bruce. Will you be alright for a few minutes Tim?" he asks, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

He tries to hide his glare towards the hand as he nods. Why wouldn't he be? He didn't really need Dick to come around in the first place, but he doesn't say that. He's decided to make a conscious effort to be a little nicer and just play along, though he's not sure how long that will last.

He can hear Damian angrily explaining to his older brother that he's not that young as Dick drags him away, leaving Tim and Jason alone together. Jason takes a sip of his drink, glancing at Tim while he does.

"So," Jason starts, "I'm guessing Dick dragged you over here against your will? And then he left you here, not a very good host."

Tim shrugs, "He didn't _drag_ me. He asked first."

"And you came why? You don't strike as the type to be attracted to Dick, and from what I can conclude, you don't seem all that _fond_ of him in general so let me guess…you felt obligated, didn't you?"

Tim's eyebrows lower and he eyes the older male up and down. That is exactly how he felt, but how would Jason know that? And he's hardly around, how would he be able to conclude anything? What only makes it worse is that Jason is smirking at him. God, Tim hopes Jason isn't just another Dick disguised behind a more rough exterior.

"Don't worry. It happens to all of us at some point. Dick just sort of has this way of getting people to do what he wants sooner or later. He's a charmer like that."

Tim's not sure how to take that. He doesn't know Jason well enough to decipher what he's saying either. "So, Dick generally just tends to get his way?"

"With everybody except Bruce maybe," Jason answers before motioning his hand around the room, "You know these people around here, they're stupid. Dick bats an eyelash or two and smiles and these people are sharing their life stories, intimate secrets and probably even their social security numbers if he asks."

"You almost sound bitter," Tim states, and Jason just laughs.

"No. Trust me it comes in handy, having a brother like that…even if he is overly touchy and optimistic at times."

"I take it you're a glass half empty kind of guy?"

"I take it you are too?"

Tim cracks a slight smile, the first one he's probably given all night. He's never talked to Jason before, but he kind of enjoys knowing there's someone at the bakery that seems to share the same feelings and opinions he does. Jason, he could probably get along with.

"Takes one to know one I guess," Tim answers dryly, before taking a moment to look around the room, "Mind if I ask why you're hanging out over here by yourself when your dad and brother seem to be two of the biggest socialites here?"

"Your parents are two of the biggest socialites here. I could ask you the same question."

"You enjoy being difficult, don't you?"

"Just as much as you do."

"Maybe, but we can't both be difficult."

"Then I'll be difficult, and you be the nice boy I know your parents raised you to be," Jason says, smiling from behind his now empty glass.

Tim rolls his eyes and decides to give in to answering the question first. "My parents told me to make myself scarce." Jason glances over, eyebrow raised, looking confused so Tim elaborates. "That's why _I_ was by myself, but then Damian and Dick came along and dragged me over here."

"Oh," he says, and that's all he says at first before looking out into the crowd. After a few moments he shrugs, "I just come because it makes Bruce happy, you know? We have this like unspoken agreement, that as long as I come and act civil and do the whole meet and greet thing in the beginning, then I can pretty much do whatever I want for the rest of the time as long as I don't leave."

"So then you choose to stand in the corner and avoid human contact for several hours?"

Jason nods his head.

"Hmm, doesn't sound like a bad agreement honestly. Mind if I join you? I promise I won't talk to you if you want."

Jason lets out a short laugh, but it's not forced or unwelcoming. "I don't know. You might compromise everything I've got going when Dick comes looking for you again. What if he wants you to meet someone and drags me along? Can you assure me that won't happen?"

"I'm not going to lie. I can't make you any promises. But maybe if he sees us standing together pretending to be entertaining one another, maybe he'll leave us alone?"

Jason takes a second before turning to him with a smirk. "You know what kid, I think I like you."

Tim feels himself involuntarily smiling and Jason rolls his eyes.

"Don't get too excited. I haven't decided yet, but so far, you seem alright."

"Should I take that as I compliment?"

"Probably not. I wouldn't, but something tells me you might anyway and I can't tell you what you can and can't do."

* * *

The rest of the night goes fairly well. So maybe he had to talk to Dick, but actually talking to Jason for once wasn't so bad. Tim spends the next hour or so standing with Jason in the corner making the occasional joke and taking the time to let his food settle. Nobody seems to bother them and he wonders if maybe the older boy's standoffish attitude is the reason behind that. He's not complaining about it, just curious.

When things start to wind down he finally heads off to find his parents. He's probably been away long enough at this point for them to accept him back, or at least they're drunk enough not to complain about it. He wanders around until he sees both of them saying goodbye to some colleagues by the entrance where he just falls into place beside them without much of a word.

His mother finishes up her conversation and when she notices him, she takes his arm and starts to lead him outside towards the car. "We were looking for you," she hisses, obvious annoyance just oozing off of her words.

"I thought you told me to make myself scarce?"

He averts his gaze as his mother turns her own to glare at him. "It would behoove you not to sass me, especially while we're still in public. Hurry up and get in the car before you proceed to irritate me further. What were you even doing that we couldn't find you for the last fifteen minutes?"

He walks towards the car and gets in, all the while wondering why they didn't just call him if they were trying to find him so bad? Isn't that what cell phones are for? Of course, with parents it's never that simple, especially his parents. It's almost like they look for reasons for him to disappoint them.

"I was talking to Jason, Mr. Wayne's son," he answers, securing himself under his seat belt in the back.

His father seems to twitch with disapproval from his spot in the drivers seat, but doesn't bother to turn around or say anything. He just gives a glance to his wife as if telling her to handle it. Janet turns around in her seat, giving Tim an upset look he isn't accustomed to. He's not sure if he should feel frightened or not by it.

"Jason? That rude, inconsiderate, delinquent of a son? I don't even see why Bruce took him in. God, he's even worse than _you_ are. Why were you hanging around with that-you know what, I don't even want to know! I just don't want you getting too comfortable with him, do you understand?"

Tim would be lying if he said he wasn't a little confused. His parents had never really mentioned disliking Jason before, then again they don't mention Jason much at all, so this is new and unexpected for him. He briefly wonders what they think about Damian when it occurs to him they never really mention him much either. The only one of Mr. Wayne's sons they ever really talk about at home is Dick. As far as he knew before this, they liked them all.

"Why not?" he asks curiously, "What's so bad about him?"

He seemed nice enough when Tim was talking to him. Maybe he was a little pessimistic and standoffish, but he wasn't a bad guy. He was actually rather entertaining in Tim's opinion. His mother's face indicates that she clearly seems to think otherwise.

"You mean other than the fact that he grew up with absolutely no guidance and he's a delinquent street urchin? He's just not the type of kid you should be associating yourself with. Yes, he's Bruce Wayne's son, if you can even call it that. He's more of a charity case and he's, well he's _beneath_ us. You're already straying downhill Timothy, we do not need the likes of Jason Todd dragging you further."

He lowers his head at that and just stares down at his lap. He knows they're never going to let him forget the Master's thing. Sure she didn't say it directly, but he knows that's what she was referring to when she speaks that last sentence. She makes it sound like Jason's going to try and get him hooked on drugs or something, as if Tim would be stupid enough to let that happen. Besides he already didn't get in, what does it matter if he talks to Jason now? It's not as if that could make things worse.

When he doesn't respond, his mother continues talking, a lighter air to her voice now. "If you're going to make friends with any of Bruce's children outside of the bakery, why not Dick? He's a lovely child, with a lot going for him and plenty of _connections_. Make friends with someone that might actually benefit you for once, unlike the riff raff you run around with at school, like the little blonde harlot or that brown haired nuisance from the middle of nowhere."

His eyebrows furrow and he's mildly disgusted by what his mother is saying, not surprised, just disgusted. "I don't choose my friends based on what they can do for me."

Janet Drake lets out an arrogant laugh as she turns her attention back towards the front of the car. "Maybe you should start? You might have actually gotten into the Master's program if you did, but I guess we'll never know now…_will we Timothy_?"

Tim doesn't say anything else, mostly because he doesn't want to lose his temper. Getting into full blown fights with his parents has never really benefitted him before. Usually it just leads to him hearing his parents say things a child should never hear from two loving parents. Instead he just sits in the back and tries to focus on anything else until they get home where he can go to his room for the rest of the night. When they pull into the driveway, he wastes no time getting out of the car and going upstairs.

He's still kind of ticked when he gets up there, but at least he's by himself, where they can't bother him further. He just can't believe they would try to tell him who he can and can't be friends with? And then of course they would suggest Dick as a better alternative. Why wouldn't they love him? It would be just his luck wouldn't it? His parents, _whom he's not even sure like him half the time_, love his boss, who is either really strange or really interested in playing mind games with him or both. From what he's heard and read, the life of a privileged kid like himself is supposed to be fun and easy, so why isn't his? Whoever came up with that misconception is a liar _and_ an asshole and they clearly never met parents like his.

The first thing he does is change because it'll probably calm him down significantly. He strips out of his suit, letting out a sigh of relief as he does. The dressier the outfit, the more constricting it is, and the less food it takes to feel uncomfortable in. His lack of comfort may be the only thing bothering him more than his parents at the moment. Once he's changed into sweats, he throws himself into his bed and lies on his back. He's isn't tired, but he's not in the mood to do much at the moment anyway, especially not when he has to go to work in the morning and more than likely play mind games with Dick anyway.

Lazily Tim reaches a hand over towards his night stand and into a drawer, looking for a book to read when he hits familiar territory. The sound of plastic rustling hits him first, then he feels the soft cake underneath. It's spongy, so a Twinkie probably? It's not like he really _cares_, they're all pretty much the same. He hesitates for a second, thinking back to the event. He really shouldn't because he already ate more than enough there. He wasn't even looking for snacks right now, he was looking for a book. He should just find the book and go on to reading like he'd originally planned to do in the first place. But he doesn't, because well…

It's not a real binge, just a snack. Besides, Damian kind of did ruin his cake earlier and he's been craving something sweet ever since. Plus to top it all off, he had to interact with Dick and deal with his parents. That's definitely stressful enough to warrant this. He practically needs it. It would definitely help take his mind off things and chill him out. So, _why not_? He grabs the snack, unwrapping it as he lies down. He deserves it, doesn't he? One won't hurt.

It's not like he'll be much worse off than he is now.

* * *

well i hope you enjoyed, especially our first real intro to jason and damian :) plz review


	4. Chapter 4

hey hey hey! back with another chap! yay!

hope you guys are still enjoying this. This chap is going to introduce some conflict, at least for tim. after this chap, things should start getting a little more interesting as far as his eating disorder goes :) i hope you enjoy that

thats about all i got going. thanks for all the reviews and the love. I appreciate it

i do not own young justice

* * *

4

For the next few days, work isn't too taxing or exciting. Dick hasn't brought up that conversation they had. He's just gone back to his usual self, acting as if it didn't happen, just like at the hospital event the other night. It doesn't really bother Tim, not really. He doesn't want to talk about it anyway. Dick made his point clear, he holds all the cards and Tim holds none. It's not a hard concept to understand, it's practically the story of his life anyway. He just deals with it, though a few times _dealing with it_ has involved sneaking something quick in his car or between classes or at home, rather than actually trying to fix the problem.

Damian hasn't said much to him, other than the usual insults and jabs. He hasn't bothered to really go out of his way to talk to have a conversation; the insults have just grown more frequent. Tim hasn't yet figured out if that means Damian likes him or not yet, but he's waiting to see. He's pretty sure Jason likes him now though, or at least is willing to tolerate him, which is good enough. The two of them have shared some dry, sarcastic jokes over the last few days but for the most part, Tim's just been doing his job and going home. It doesn't bother him any. He has been keeping up his after work cake sessions with Barbara though so, he's having a good week…at least until Thursday afternoon.

It's a regular day. He's been here for almost an hour and he's got a little more than an hour left. The afterschool rush has come and went, so now he's just sitting reading another book for school, waiting for a random passerby to stumble in and maybe indulge in something. Damian's sweeping the floor, grumbling as he does. Jason's grabbing some empty cake trays to take to the back and Dick is just walking into the front asking Tim if he's doing alright when they walk in.

He hears the familiar sound of the door opening and casually glances up, ready to greet the new customers until he actually sees who it is. Standing inside, looking around the room are his mom and dad.

He sees Jason, Dick, and Damian all exchange strange looks, but he doesn't have the time to try and decipher them. He doesn't even think to say hi. The first thing that shoots out of his mouth is, "What are you two doing here?" It's not rude, more surprised and slightly appalled.

Thousands of reasons run through his head and not a single one is good. Automatically he starts to think back everything he might've done to piss his parents off in the last few days, but nothing really comes to mind. They can't actually be here to buy something…Tim's not even sure he's ever even seen his mom eat sweets or cake or anything like that, not even on his birthday so that can't possibly be it.

His dad continues to look around, taking in everything while ignoring his son. Tim figures his mom probably dragged him in there to keep up the whole happy "family" image. Anyone who knows that his father literally hasn't said more than five words to him in over a week would know that's not true.

His mother smiles, letting out a slight laugh and she raises her eyebrow. "What do you mean? You've been working here for a few weeks now and we haven't been in once. We just came to see you."

He really wants to ask why, but he knows if he does, it'll create a problem that he'll have to deal with when he goes home. Instead he keeps his mouth shut and just smiles and nods as if this is normal. "Oh…um, okay…"

"You sound strange. You're not screwing anything up, are you?"

Tim almost wants to let out a sigh of relief when he hears this question. That sounds about right. That sounds more like her. His cheeks turn a slight red as he answers, "Um, no." He knows it doesn't sound confident and he's sure she can probably tell.

Janet just rolls her eyes and makes her way over to one of the display cases, "You don't sound very sure."

"I…ugh…" he starts before Dick cuts in to save him. Tim's not sure if he should be grateful or pissed. He didn't exactly _need_ to be saved.

"Actually Tim is doing very well," he says and Jake Drake just scoffs, offering him a sideways glance from in front of one of the pastry counters. "No, really. He picked up everything in no time. He's a smart kid, customers like him. You should be proud of him."

Even Tim's a little surprised to hear this. He and Dick aren't exactly best friends so he doesn't exactly have to talk him up like this. Janet looks from Dick to Tim and lets out a short laugh under her breath. "Being good at customer service isn't exactly something to be proud of. I can think of several other things, _maybe involving college_, that would've made us a lot more proud."

The longer this conversation drags on, the more embarrassed Tim starts to feel and something tells him that's exactly how he's supposed to feel. Damian is pretending to keep sweeping in the corner, though Tim is sure he's listening in on all of this. Jason hasn't even pretended to be doing a job. He's just standing against the wall with his arms crossed taking in the scene in front of him.

Slowly Tim sinks into himself because there it is, there's that reference again. He didn't get in, he knows. It's been like two weeks, he thinks they'd be over it and on to the next thing by now. Clearly they're going to bring this up until the day he dies, which will probably be before either of them because only a kid as useless as Tim wouldn't be smart enough to at least outlive his parents. That's how they would twist it.

"But that isn't the only thing, right?"

Jack looks up at Dick and then towards his own son, making sure Tim knows he's addressing him when he says, "It's about the only thing that matters."

Dick frowns and Janet lets out a dramatic sigh, looking towards the case and changing the topic, "Tim honey, do you carry anything maybe low fat or sugar free, something a little more health conscious?"

"Health conscious? Sugar free?" Jason barks from his spot against the wall, "That's a joke right? This is a _bakery_. Everything in here is made of sugar."

"Jason!" scolds Dick and his younger brother just rolls his eyes and grumbles a response.

"What? God, you know how she is." All he's given is a look and Jason just throws his hands up and concedes without another word.

Janet purses her lips, clearly irritated, but she decides to let it slide for once, choosing to ignore Jason altogether. "Regardless, I feel like we should buy something. Tim, just box us up a cake and I'll figure out what to do with it once I get home or something."

He sighs and slowly drags himself off his stool, towards the case. He just picks the first cake he sees, a decadent cookies and cream, and rings it up on the register. His mom hands him a card and he charges it before seeing his dad pick up the box from the counter and head towards the door.

She starts to walk off, but then his mom stops and turns to him, waving her hand as she remembers something, "Oh, that's right. I know what I can use the cake for! That reminds me, we're having guests for dinner tonight, so make sure to be home at a decent time."

"Um, okay. I'll see you later then I guess."

She seems to brush him off as she turns around, "Mmhmm, yeah."

Tim's not sure if he should be humiliated or relieved once his parents are finally gone. Maybe he's a little of both? There's a brief moment of silence after they walk out, but Jason breaks that.

"So, they're always assholes then, even with you?"

Dick brings his palm to his face and practically growls, "Jason! Don't you have a job you're supposed to be doing?"

"They're not perfect, but they're not that bad," Tim tries to defend, though it doesn't sound very confident and it's mostly a lie, "Not always."

A condescending laugh can be heard from Damian of the other side of the room. Tim can't even really blame him. His parents just came and embarrassed him for no reason at his job. It was unnecessary to say the least. Even he knows that.

With a sigh, Tim turns to Dick, "Would you mind if I took my break now?"

Dick looks a little surprised, because usually he has to come find Tim and force him to take a break. He hasn't really _asked_ before. He nods then looks back at Jason and Damian, pretty much ordering them to leave with just a look. They both walk out, only because they're being forced, as Tim grabs his book and his backpack from under the counter, before making his way towards the break room in the back.

He's by himself, which is what he was expecting and hoping for. He just needs a few minutes to forget what just happened and tell himself that by tomorrow everyone will have forgotten what they saw. He sticks his hand into the front zipper of his bag, looking to take comfort in something he knows he shouldn't be. He's been trying to do better but old habits die hard, he guesses. He'd stopped at the vending machine with Bart between classes and picked up three cinnamon rolls, intending to eat them on his way to work before talking himself out of it. He'd been able to then, but nothing is about to stop him now. It's always harder to talk himself out of it when he's stressed, or in this case, upset and humiliated.

He opens the first one, taking a bite and he can feel himself calming down some after he does. It's pathetic, he knows, it works though. He's sure that by now his body probably just associated eating with pleasure and comfort, which is wrong, but he can't change it at this point. Sometimes it's just easier to go with what works than to try and find a better alternative.

Tim eats at a slow pace, because it makes him feel like he's got less of a problem and he's in control if he's not shoving food down his throat. He leaves the plastic on the table as he starts into the second one. Finally he's halfway into his third and last, when Dick pops into the doorway, surprising the hell out of him.

"Hey," he says, almost causing the teen to choke. It's not so much that he's shocked now, as it is that he doesn't want the older male to see what he's doing. Of course he's left his wrappers in plain sight.

"H-hey…did you need me back?" His mouth is full, so it comes out a little muffled.

"No, you've still got a few minutes. I let Damian watch the front for a sec. I just wanted to see if you were ugh, alright?"

Tim swears he sees Dick look right from his pile of wrappers to the half-eaten cinnamon roll in his hand and raise a curious eyebrow. He can feel his cheeks getting hotter with each passing second. It's more just a reflex if anything. It's not as if Dick can just tell what he's doing, but it's still embarrassing to slip up like this. He already had Damian watching him at the event the other night. Hopefully they don't decide to put two and two together.

He's tries to be convincing when he says, "Y-yeah, I'm fine."

Dick doesn't see to buy it. Tim can see it all over his face, but he could care less. He doesn't want to get into it though. After all, they don't even have that kind of relationship. Caring about each other is something friends do. They're definitely not friends and Tim definitely doesn't spend his time caring about whether or not Dick Grayson is okay. He probably has ten thousand other people doing that for him anyway. As far as relationships go, Tim is a worker and Dick is his boss. That was made clear already. He doesn't need Dick to be concerned or whatever it is he's feeling.

He tilts his head and asks again, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," he spits with a quick scowl, "I said I was fine didn't I?"

"You don't look fine and well out there…I mean, your parents are um difficult, I understand bu-"

"No you don't."

Tim says it so quick, it catches Dick off guard. "What?"

He takes a deep breath and stares right at Dick. He tries to say it without sounding, well mean, but still stern so as to get his point across. "No, you don't. You don't understand. You don't know anything about me or my parents or how _difficult_ they are."

"I probably know more than you think."

Tim just rolls his eyes. "I doubt it."

"So tell me something then," he suggests, walking over and putting a hand on Tim's shoulder. The younger male stiffens under his touch. Whether he tolerates Dick or not, he will never be used to him putting his hands on his body. Those hands have been all over Barbara and who knows where else they've been. "Try me."

He isn't really expecting that and for a brief second, he actually considers telling the older male something. Of course, he decides against it. Why would he open up to Dick? That would create the illusion that they're more than they are and that's already gotten him into trouble once. Sure, he'll talk to him casually at work if he wants and even spend a little time with him at events if he sees him, but he isn't about to get extremely personal with him. Those things are just enough to seem cordial and keep from getting fired. For all Tim knows, Dick would just use whatever he said against him later anyway.

Tim shrugs himself out of his bosses grip and almost glares at him, "For what? It's not going to-why do you even care? Last I remember, you were holding your status over me, then we get to the event and suddenly we're cool again and now you're back here asking me if I'm okay. I don't…I don't understand you."

Dick narrows his eyes, seeming to take it all in, "Well, if you would just shut up and actually listen to me, I think you'd see that I'm trying to _help_ you."

Help him? How Dick could ever possibly help him is beyond Tim. He doesn't need his money, not yet at least, and he doesn't need whatever stupid advice or life lessons Dick Grayson could ever give him. It all probably pertains to hooking up with strangers and avoiding tabloids anyway. Still, he is trying to be nice…Tim just wishes he knew what the hell was going on in Dick's head sometimes.

"Well thanks and all, but don't okay? I don't need your help or anybody else's for that matter…" he says in an almost somber tone. The air is silent for a few seconds where neither of them even make eye contact, before Tim looks up at the older male with, "I don't mean to sound so…I just…I should probably get back to the counter."

"Yeah, probably," Dick shoots Tim a look of pity that's hard to miss. Instead of accepting it, he shifts his eyes towards the floor and pushes pass his boss back into the front of the store.

* * *

The rest of the day is just awkward and miserable, at least for Tim. He's almost sure if his co-workers haven't already discussed him and his parents in the back, they surely will when he leaves. He doesn't even stick around to have his usual session with Barbara, instead telling her that he has to go home and get ready for a dinner they probably won't be having until late tonight anyway. He could've stayed, but for once he just doesn't want to. He drives home hoping to be left alone until he gets called for dinner, but of course not. His parents are sitting right in the living room when he walks in.

"Timothy," his mother says dryly. She's sitting on the couch reading over some papers in her lap. He assumes she's reviewing something for their family's company.

"Mom."

"Mother," she corrects.

"Mother."

"Dinner is at eight. Your father and I are having Mr. Wayne and his boys over, so be on you best behavior."

Tim's ears immediately perk up at this news. He assumed it was just some regular client they were schmoozing or one of their so called "friends"…both of which he realizes, could include Mr. Wayne. Why his sons too though? "Why?"

Her head shoots up, giving Tim a quick glance that tells him he should probably rephrase before she makes him wish he had. "Excuse me?"

"I just…his sons coming too? Is this not some sort of business thing?" Sure Tim is a kid and he'll be there, but that's only because he lives here. Usually he doesn't talk when they have people over, unless asked a question directly. Most times, he just eats and then excuses himself to his room.

"Because," she starts, "Even though business will probably come up, this dinner is mostly casual. Your father and I thought it would be nice to have him and his sons over seeing as they gave you a job. It's to show our appreciation, since you know, they have the displeasure of putting with someone like you everyday."

Tim just rolls his eyes at the last part. If he was that bad he's sure they would've gotten rid of him by now. And how come he wasn't consulted about this? He is the one actually working the job. And if both Jack and Janet decided this, where is Jack? Why hasn't he bothered to talk to his son in weeks? All these things run through Tim's head, but he refrains from saying any of them, choosing to just nod instead.

"Just make sure to be down here in time and look presentable please?"

He gives her a mock smile and continues on to his room, "Yes mother."

* * *

"Timothy! Our guests are here! Could you come down please?" Janet calls, trying to hide the edge in her voice in front of their company.

It's not that he meant to be late, though can you really be late in your own house? He just lost track of time when he was doing his homework, not that his parents will care. He does his best to get downstairs, tying his tie and fixing his pants as he walks into the dining room.

Everyone is already down at the table when he takes his seat, which of course happens to be right across from Dick. He just wants to shoot himself in the face. After that awkward exchange in the break room, it would only be right for him to be right in front of his boss. Mr. Wayne and his father are seated at opposite ends of the table, with Janet at Jack's left, followed by Tim next to her. Damian is next to Bruce on the opposite side, followed by Dick and finally Jason.

He smiles and says hi when he's seated. The minute there's a break his mother leans into his ear. "What the hell took you so long? I told you to make sure to be down here on time."

"I lost track of time," he answers between gritted teeth, "You know how people like me are. Maybe somebody should've come up stairs and reminded me."

His mother looks almost insulted but covers it up with a forced smile. "Watch yourself."

When he turns his attention towards the table, Damian looks bored out of mind. He lets out an obnoxious sigh for dramatic effect, earning himself a look from both Bruce and Dick. Jason seems to a have a scowl on his face, but Tim isn't sure if that's his usual scowl or something different. Bruce looks the same way he always does, professional but indifferent. Dick, who Tim's been trying to avoid looking at in general, has his usual charming smile on that clearly his mother is just mesmerized by because she hasn't stopped looking at it.

"Dinner should be out shortly," informs Janet, "Until then, how has everyone been? Doing well I hope?"

Tim wants to gag at how fake she sounds. He can't remember his mother ever using such a pleasant tone with him.

Bruce answers with a smile that Tim suspects is practiced, "We've all been well. Thank you again by the way for inviting us to have dinner at your home. It looks lovely as always."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he offers, then turns towards Tim. "Timothy."

The teen looks up with wide eyes. Usually when he's addressed like that, it's a bad thing. Other than being late he's pretty sure he hasn't done anything yet, but who knows?

"It's been a while since I've seen you. I don't even think we got a chance to talk much at this past event. How have you been? How are your studies coming?"

Before answering, he inhales deep, preparing himself to put on the façade that he's a really pleasant, well-mannered child. "I've been fine, and so far everything is fine in school as well. It's still early in the year though. There isn't much to do yet."

"I imagine it wouldn't be that hard for you regardless of how far into the semester you were."

"No, probably not," he says a tad arrogantly, earning what looks to be a genuine smirk from Bruce.

Before anything else can be said, food is being brought out by the hired help and laid on the table. Tim surveys the selection. It's a lot nicer than how they eat on any normal day, not that they ever eat bad, but his parents never put this much effort into their dinners. There's everything from steak, to shrimp, to chicken with several sides along with salad and bread. Like they couldn't have just had spaghetti or something? Honestly, if anybody would've asked Tim, but why would they, he could go for a Big Mac or two right now.

"It looks amazing," comments Bruce, "You really didn't have to go through all of this effort."

"It's fine really. Please help yourselves."

Tim puts a healthy serving of food on his plate and starts to eat. As long as he's eating, he's got an excuse not to talk. He's hoping if he just doesn't make eye contact, eats, and keeps quiet, then maybe everyone will forget he's even there. His parents probably already have.

It works for a while. Bruce and Jack talk numbers and stocks for a little bit, but that only lasts so long before becoming incredibly boring and the conversation makes its way towards the bakery. Internally, Tim cringes.

"So Richard, tell me," starts Jack, "How exactly is the bakery business treating you. I still don't understand why you choose to manage a bakery with your degree and credentials."

Tim, whose been looking down the whole time, glances up at Dick. When the older male looks back, he quickly averts his eyes and hopes he hasn't been caught. It's just awkward. It's bad enough his parents came in earlier and embarrassed him, then there was the break room and now they're at his house. He just wasn't prepared for any of this.

"Well, it certainly doesn't pay as much as a working at Drake Industries or Wayne Enterprises, but it's not really about the money. I do it more so because I enjoy it and you could say I'm helping out a friend. Plus it provides a lot more flexibility and free time than working at a major corporation would and I don't have to answer to anyone other than myself. I'm sure one day, I'll end up somewhere much larger, but for now, it's simple and easy. I like that."

"Free time and flexibility, that's understandable. It doesn't put a strain on things like family," Jack comments and Tim can't help but just openly roll his eyes at that, he even laughs a little under his breath. Family? Right, as if Jack would know anything about that. Tim's pretty sure families talk and you know, like each other.

"Did you have something you wanted to say sweetie?" his mother grits between her teeth. She's embarrassed, he knows that much, but she's forcing a smile.

He looks up and points towards his chest, "Who, me?" She nods and it's rigid and angry. He knows if Bruce wasn't here she'd flip. "Oh, no, I didn't have anything to say."

Knowing his wife better than anyone in the room, Jack takes initiative and averts the topic from Tim back to, well anyone else. "Jason," he starts, though it's obvious he doesn't really want to talk to him, "How's school treating you?"

He looks completely disinterested when he answers, "Fine. I'm not breezing through college like the golden child did, but I'm not failing either." Dick playfully rolls his eyes at the referral and Jason shoots him a friendly smirk.

"That's good. And Damian, how's Gotham Academy?"

He grunts something under his breath, probably an insult, before looking up with an obviously fake smile. "Lovely. I simply couldn't imagine attending anywhere else."

Janet seems to beam at his reply. Whether or not she knows he's being a brat is beyond Tim. "I take it you're applying to Gotham U like the rest of your family?"

"Of course."

"Are you going into business?" she inquires, and here it comes. They're about to bring up the fucking business thing again. Tim tries to hide his irritation by grabbing two rolls and shoving one violently into his mouth. As he chews angrily, he doesn't seem to notice the curious look Dick is giving him. He's been glancing at Tim whenever he's gotten the chance, though of course, he hasn't been getting much back.

"Naturally."

"I figured. I'm sure you'll be a shoe in for the program."

"I would hope," he laughs, "Now that Dick is on the board."

Even Tim takes a second to look up after hearing this. Dick's face is going a slight shade of pink as both Jack and Janet turn toward him. "What does he mean?"

"I-it's not how it…I just found out last night. It's temporary. It's not like an official job or permanent or anything. One of the kids who got accepted into the program declined so they're re-reviewing applications and taking new submissions over the next few weeks, to be fair. Bruce was supposed to do it, but he's busy, so I ugh…I'm helping out in his place."

Both adults nod, and Dick continues, looking directly at Tim when he says, "You know Tim, you should reapply. It wouldn't hurt anything."

Of course that would be his luck. Just when he thought it was over, or at least calming down some, here it comes all over again. Reapply for what? So he can be rejected again and his parents can be pissed all over again. Yeah right. While this could be his chance to get his parents good graces again, he's never been too optimistic.

"Um…yeah, I…" he's trying to figure out how exactly he's going to decline the offer in the nicest, easiest way possible.

Janet cuts him off before he can do so. "Why that's great news. Of course he will be reapplying."

She exchanges smiles with Dick; and internally Tim just groans and slowly fills his plate again. Why him, he wonders pushing a forkful of food into his mouth. As if his day could get any worse.

* * *

"Your parents are stiff," Jason says staring at family photos placed around the mantle of the Drake fireplace. He's the only one standing as Tim is sitting across from Damian and Dick on the couches enjoying slices of the cake purchased earlier. Janet, Jack, and Bruce are enjoying a drink in the parlor, an offer Dick eagerly declined. Tim wishes he would've taken it though because sitting across from him now is just as awkward as it was at the dinner table. He's still trying to make as a little eye contact as possible.

Slowly Tim slides a bite of cake of his fork and shrugs, "Like I said, they're not perfect."

"Geez Jason, those are his parents. Maybe you'd like to think before you say anything else rude about them today."

Jason turns around, pursing his lips at his older brother, "What? I'm just saying. I mean besides, it's not like he doesn't know."

That's clearly not the point and Jason knows that. Hell, Dick knows that he knows that, but it doesn't stop him so Dick takes the initiative to do what he knows his brother isn't going to. "I'm sorry about him."

"It's fine, really. He's just being honest and ugh, voicing his opinion."

"See! Besides Dick, you should know how they are better than anybody…other than their son of course."

Damian smirks from his while Dick just drops his head and grunts. Clearly whatever Jason is alluding to is something he doesn't want brought up.

Tim raises an eyebrow and looks between the three of them before settling back on Jason, "What do you mean?" He remembers Dick saying something about knowing his parents earlier. He wonders if that's what Jason is talking about.

"Nothing, it's stupid. He's just joking around."

Not wanting to make things any weirder, Tim chooses not to bring it up again. Dick can sense his awkwardness. It's been like this since they talked earlier. He's been feeling it too, even though he's been trying to make an effort to get passed it, Tim not so much. He's been pretending to be too busy eating the whole time to try move passed it.

"So…" he says, trying to think of a way to change the subject. While Damian and Jason seem to be fine, Tim and Dick are both looking around the room awkwardly. Before anything can come to mind, Bruce and Tim's parents waltz in smiling and laughing.

"I'd hate to interrupt all the fun you four seem to be having, but it's late and Damian has school in the morning. Tim, I believe you do too?"

Yes he does. Thank God for that.

* * *

Tim's putting plates in the sink when his parents walk in him. He doesn't hear them walk in but when he turns around they're right behind him, arms folded with matching scowls.

"Is something wrong?"

"Don't be cute Timothy. You know what this is about," growls his mother, "You _are_ reapplying to that program."

He laughs a little under his breath, "For what? So I can be rejected again. Nothing's changed. If I didn't get in the first time, I doubt I'll get in the second."

"Well things are different this time around," his father informs.

"How?"

Janet drops her hands from her chest in agitation and brings them up to her forehead, "Jesus Timothy, could you be any more dense? If so, it's understandable that they rejected you the first time. Your boss, and personal family friend, is on the board."

"Who, Dick? I wouldn't exactly call him a friend."

"Well I suggest you do whatever you have to do to change that."

It takes him a second to catch on but when he does, he's tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes, "Are you serious?" When she doesn't answer, he continues, "I'm not about to kiss Dick Grayson's ass just to be accepted into that program."

"Excuse me?"

"It's pathetic and embarrassing."

"You're pathetic and embarrassing," Jack snarls. "If you know what's good for you, you'll do everything in your power to make sure you get in this time."

"I'm not going to-I don't even_ like_ him!"

"I don't give a shit whether you like him or not! For some off reason he seems fond of you and he is your last chance-"

"My last chance? You're already going to cut me off at the end of the year."

His father takes a step forward, making Tim uncomfortable as he closes the small gap between them. He leans into his son's ear, "Give me a reason not to cut you off now."

"You can't do that."

"I can and I will."

"I'm not even eighteen. You couldn't legally do that to me."

"I can cut you off from all of my money, even if I have to let you stay here, there's no law that says I can't make your last few months here as miserable as I can. I'm not going to let you keep humiliating me and this family."

"Don't think we forget about the way you were showing your ass at dinner either," Janet adds, "I have no idea where that came from tonight, I hope it wasn't to impress that Jason character. All I know is I better not ever see that side of you again, do you understand me?"

He doesn't speak, too busy trying to get a grip on everything his parents are telling him? They can't be serious. He never thought they would stoop so low as to have him kiss up to somebody, he always figured they thought too highly of themselves for that; and maybe he would consider it if was anyone than Dick. He barely wants to work with him, now they want him to suck up to the guy? And why does she think that he and Jason are so chummy? He does like him more than Dick, but they're not best friends either.

Suddenly he feels a hand violently gripping onto his forearm and jerking him back to attention, "Your mother asked you a question. Do you understand her?" He pronounces ever word sharply as if it's its own sentence.

"Yes, yes I understand her."

Jack's grip tightens as he asks, "And do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Good," He lets go of Tim's arm and takes a step back, straightening his own sleeves, "You better make sure you get in this time Timothy, sway Richard in your direction, or I can assure you that your remaining months here will be comparable to hell on earth, if not worse."

Tim just nods silently. He believes every word of that threat. At least when it comes to their threats, his parents aren't liars.

A smiles draws across Janet's face as she takes her husband's arm, "Try not to screw up this time. As long as you like anyone but yourself, you should be fine…oh, and make sure to turn the lights off down here when you're done. Don't stay up too late."

He hates the way they can walk away casually after what they've just said. Why is it that the people he knows seem to be so good at doing that? As they walk out, he takes a seat at the island in the middle of their kitchen and just gives himself a second to process all of this.

Of all the terrible things that could happen to him, this might be one of the worst. They actually expect him to start kissing up to Dick? He's been trying his best not to get close to him and now he's supposed to do the exact opposite? It's not like he can't, but he definitely doesn't _want_ to.

As he sits at the counter, his head in his hands, every reason why this is a bad idea and why God seems to hate him go through his mind. It's while he's moving his head to the side to take a deep breath that he sees it, the rest of the cake from earlier. He knows he already got away with eating a little extra at dinner, but that was necessary to keep from having to participate in the conversation.

This is different though.

If there was ever a reason to binge on cake, it would be tonight – the one where his parents told him to essentially befriend Dick Grayson. He has to be the strangest, most irritating, childish person Tim's ever met. Tim already decided they would never be friends, now he has to go back on that? Besides, it's not like anyone will notice if some of it's gone. His mother didn't even want to buy the thing anyway or like anyone else is going to eat it, and cakes are meant to be eaten right?

Right.

So it's decided. About half the cake is left, so Tim cuts himself half of that and takes it upstairs to his room. He changes and lies down, opening a book and resting his plate on his stomach. The entire time he's eating, he keeps trying to reassure himself that even though he's probably going to be stressing a lot more often because of Dick, it's not an excuse to turn to a piece of cake every time he needs comforting. He's not going to let this food thing become a problem.

Not again.

* * *

well, i hope you enjoyed. plz comment


	5. Chapter 5

hey yall! im back and once again thanks for all the great feedback! i love the comments and favs n stuff! its awesome!

just so you know, there is A LOT going on in this chap, so be warned and pay close attention! I hope you'll enjoy it.

i do not own young justice

* * *

5

The next morning when Tim wakes up the first thing he remembers is what his parents told him last night and it pretty much puts a damper on his entire mood. It's all he can think about as he showers and brushes his teeth. He's not even sure what he's supposed to do.

Of course he's supposed to schmooze Dick.

He gets that part. It's just he isn't sure how he's supposed to suddenly go from how he's been acting to being Dick's friend. It's not exactly something he thinks he can do overnight. The more he thinks about it, the more it begins to stress him out, so he just tries to think of something else.

He walks into his closet with his towel wrapped around his waist and begins rummaging through his clean clothes to find his uniform. At least he has school to distract him for a few hours before he has to get to the bakery. He grabs a white shirt and buttons it up, before throwing a blue long sleeve sweater on top. Then he rummages through his laundry and finds his khakis, pulling them up to his waist. They feel a little snugger than they usually do, but they still technically fit. In his absentmindedness he attributes it to the fact that they were just shrunk a little in the wash and figures they'll loosen up after an hour or two of wearing them. He puts on his belt, not even realizing it's a notch looser than usual, and slips on his shoes. Finally, he grabs his back and heads downstairs to the kitchen.

His father is sitting at the table with the newspaper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He doesn't even bother to look up at Tim when he walks in. Even though he probably doesn't care, Tim makes it a point to say something to him as he opens the fridge.

"Um, good morning."

His father shifts his paper out of his line of view and gives him a blank stare, "You remember what we talked about last night don't you?"

His shoulders slump in defeat and he rolls his eyes, "Yes, I remember."

How could he forget? He's been trying to push it out his mind but of course one of his parents would remind him. He should've just kept his mouth shut. Slowly his father folds his paper up and fixes his suit, getting ready to leave. Tim wonders if he really has to go or if it's just his presence that makes his father stand up.

"Good. Don't screw this up."

"I won't," Tim sighs in reply. He would've just preferred a 'have a good day' or maybe even an 'I love you' if at all possible.

He's knows that he's not to get either of those. Instead he surveys the fridge and decides to just grab a glass of orange juice and some pop tarts from the pantry. He'd prefer to get out of there before his mother decides to walk in and remind him of last night too. He doesn't need briefing. It's not like this is some top secret save the world mission he's going on. He's just trying to get Dick to like him…well not really because despite a few bumps in the road, Dick already seems to like him. He's more or less just trying to convince Dick that he likes him in return.

He grabs two packs and walks out the door to his car, eating them as he drives. The toaster pastries don't exactly taste good and have absolutely no nutritional value, but they're quick and save him from having to stick around his house. When he pulls into the parking he throws the wrappers in the back of the car and exchanges them for his backpack.

Tim can already see Stephanie leaning against his locker as he draws closer to it. She smiles at him and moves over to let him unlock it, greeting him with a cheerful, "Morning!" as she does.

At least somebody in his life knows how to properly greet someone. It brings a small smile to his face, "Hey Steph, what's up?"

"Not much, nothing any more interesting than usual. What's up with you? You're looking particularly glum this morning."

"Am I?" he asks. He honestly hadn't even noticed.

"Yeah actually. It's kind of bumming me out. Something wrong?"

He pulls two books from his locker and shuts it so he can look right at Stephanie when he explains things to her. "Well, I have to reapply to the Master's Program at Gotham."

One, slender blonde eyebrow creeps up in confusion. "Reapply?"

"Yeah, a spot opened up because somebody declined or something."

"Isn't that a good thing? This s is what you wanted right, so now you get a second shot. I don't understand."

Tim starts heading in the direction of Conner's locker, where he knows he and Bart will most likely be. Steph falls into next him, still waiting for an answer.

"Yeah I guess it is…I just don't want to go through the effort of reapplying to be rejected again."

"Geez Tim, have a little confidence. What makes you think you'll be rejected again?"

Confidence has never exactly been one of Tim's strong qualities and he can thank his parents for that. "I got rejected the first time and I haven't done anything spectacular since the last time I applied to sway them in my direction."

Steph looks him up and down and he wishes he knew what she was thinking. It's so hard to tell with her sometimes. "Well, if you really feel like that, why do it?"

"I _have_ to, as in my parents are forcing me to. It's either I get in this time or they cut me off even sooner."

She immediately picks up on the sound of defeat in his voice. It's like he's already given up before he's started again. She takes the arm closest to him and puts it over his shoulder. "Just don't give up so easily alright? They were stupid for not taking you the first time. I'm sure if you don't write yourself off so soon, they'll see that they made a mistake the first time. If not, you can always come stay with me. I'm not rich or anything, but I'll totally share my toys with you."

He playfully rolls his eyes. Out of everyone he knows Steph always seems to have something positive to say. "Toys?" he laughs, "Aren't we a little old for those?"

"Not these kinds," she winks.

He narrows his brows and thinks for a second before he understands what she means. He's almost immediately disgusted. She giggles as he pushes her arm off of his shoulder, "Aw gross Steph!"

"What? I was just trying to help," she jokes and Tim just frowns in disgust, "Well fine. I take the offer back then."

"Please do."

"Already done."

"Thank you," he says before things calm down a little. He lets out a sigh. "There is um, one thing," he offers. He wonders what her opinion on Dick being on the board will be. He trusts Stephanie. Maybe if she sees it as a positive, he can too?

"Is it a good thing?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me."

Stephanie is definitely a little confused and a little leery of what her friend is about to tell her. Sometimes she and Tim don't exactly have the same idea of good news. "Okay, so what is it?"

"Well Dick, you know my boss Dick from the bakery-"

"Yes I know, don't drag it out."

"S-sorry, but well, he's like on the board now so he'll be helping to read applications and deciding who gets in or whatever."

She doesn't say anything at first, just nods. Tim knows not to interrupt her. Her lack of an immediate response just means that she's thinking. She scrunches her lips a bit and finally looks back at him. "I feel like that could totally be a good thing but…something tells me that you don't feel the same way."

"We haven't exactly seen eye to eye since I started working there."

"So start now," the young blonde offers, though it's obvious from his expression that is exactly opposite of what he was hoping to hear. She doesn't understand why Tim is so incredibly pessimistic sometimes. He seems so unwilling to want to put effort into anything and she's never been able to figure out the reason behind that. "Or don't. I'm not sure what to tell you Tim."

That's not the answer he wants to hear either, though she's running out of things to tell him. They're getting closer to Conner's locker and she's not sure if he'll want to keep the conversation up once they get there. Before they can get too close, she takes a hand to his shoulder and stops him in the hallway. "Look, I know he's not your most favorite person in the entire world and that the last thing you want to do is be friendly with him, but at least give it a chance. Maybe he can help you? I mean getting into the program is what you really wanted, isn't it?"

Honestly, he wasn't sure.

* * *

Tim's been mulling over what Stephanie said all morning and he still wasn't sure what to make of it. It wasn't like she had sided with his parents, but she kind of had all at the same time. Was he really supposed to just force himself to befriend Dick so he could get into the program? Its just…_God_, it was Dick. The guy just bothered Tim. He could put up with him for only so long and only through so much before he started to irritate the shit out of him by merely being himself.

These were the thoughts that were going through his head as he mindlessly filled his tray in the cafeteria. He didn't snap out of it until he felt a hand on his shoulder, hitting him playfully.

"Someone's hungry today, skip breakfast this morning?"

"Huh?" he responded before turning around to see Conner grinning at him with Bart at his side. Conner simply pointed towards Tim's tray. He hadn't even noticed he'd put two of everything on it – two burgers, two fries, two desserts, two drinks. Even he was a little surprised. "Oh, I ugh…I hadn't even realized."

"Are you alright? You've seemed a little distracted today."

Tim shook his head and followed them towards the registers to pay. "Yeah, sorry. I have to reapply to the Master's thing at Gotham U. I've just had that on my mind all day."

"Reapply?" Bart asked without missing a beat. "Why?"

"Yeah, I thought that was over?"

Tim takes the seat across from the two of them. The seat beside him is left open for when Stephanie shows up, if she isn't busy in the library or something.

"It was, but a spot opened up so I guess I'm going to try for it again."

Conner raises an eyebrow, "You guess?"

"Yeah," he shrugs.

"Maybe I'm wrong, but it doesn't sound like you're all that excited about it."

"I'm not. I'm not even sure if I want to."

"Then don't do it."

Tim wishes it was just that easy. Like most of his friend's, Conner has fairly understanding parents. He claims he and his dad didn't always see eye to eye; but from what Tim can tell, they seem to get along pretty well. He's sure that Conner and Mr. Kent are closer than him and his own dad for sure.

"I can't just _not do it_."

"Parents?" Conner asks, straight faced and Tim just nods.

"Yeap."

Bart cocks his head to the side, seeming confused. "I thought they were gonna cut you off anyway? Why even bother?"

Though none of his friends really know how his parents are behind closed doors, they know they can be a little tough on him. They _are_ claiming to cut him off at the end of the year after all. Tim's not sure if they realize just how serious he was about that. He feels like his friends still think that the Drakes are going to change their minds at the last second. They're not. He knows that. He's not stupid or naive.

"Are they going to keep you in the will or whatever if you get in this time?"

"I don't even know. They didn't really say. All they said was that they'd cut me off sooner if I didn't."

Both Conner and Bart's eyes drop towards the table awkwardly. How can Tim say that so calmly, as if it's not a devastating problem? You don't just go from having everything handed to you on a silver platter to having nothing and being okay with it. Life doesn't work like that. They wonder if Tim really understands how the other half lives sometimes. Conner is middle class. Steph only has her mom. Bart has no parents and while they're not struggling, Wally works hard to make sure that they don't end up without their apartment.

Tim's lived a gated community his entire life. His parents are always driving the latest, most expensive cars. Hell, Tim's car is probably worth close to half of what his friend's homes are. His parents probably pay more in taxes than what the Kent's or Stephanie's mom makes a year, definitely more than Wally who just started working in the real world. Tim might not realize exactly what being cut off means.

"That doesn't scare you?" Bart asks.

Tim shrugs, "Well yeah of course…but I mean, they're going to do it anyway. It won't be that bad. I'll manage. I can get another job or something right? It can't be that different."

Bart and Conner just exchange a nervous glance before the smaller replies half-heartedly, "Yeah, dude, of course."

* * *

Tim pulls into the parking lot at work but can't immediately bring himself to go in. He's been busy thinking about how he's supposed to go in here and try to be, well, not himself. He knows the objective: manage to get Dick to give him the spot by convincing him they're friends, or _whatever_. It's just he isn't sure _how_ to go about that process. Just thinking about it is starting to make him anxious and he's starting to wish he would've stopped somewhere and picked up some food, but it's too late now. He's just going to have to suck it up and figure it out as he goes along.

He takes his usual post and for the first half hour he doesn't even see Dick, not that he's complaining about it. Once the afterschool rush is gone, Tim is just sitting behind the register twiddling his thumbs and kicking his feet to pass his idle time. In all his anxiousness, he forgot to bring a book with him. It doesn't take long for him to hear the familiar steps of Dick coming down the hallway though and Tim holds his breath for a second. He's not really sure how this is supposed to go, if he's supposed to just come on strong but he's just going to have to dive in headfirst now.

"Hey," starts Dick, poking his head out of the doorway, "How's it going out here?"

Dick almost always seems to ask him this, as though this is the most complicated job of all time. Tim shrugs, "Fine. I haven't really seen anybody for maybe fifteen minutes now."

"I figured as much, you sound bored."

"Kind of, but it's always like this after the first half hour…I'm sure you know that though."

"Yeah, it can definitely get really slow around here sometimes but it isn't that bad when you've got decent people to work with," he offers.

Tim cocks his head to the side, a little confused. "_Decent_?"

"Yeah," he nods, "Like friends."

"You refer to your friends as decent," the teen teases, "That isn't the most _endearing_ term you could use to describe them."

Dick thinks about it briefly before Tim recognizes a slight blush coming to his cheeks, "No, no I guess it's not huh?"

Suddenly, Tim senses opportunity. This is the perfect moment to use Dick's emotions to his own benefit and see where exactly they stand. If he can see that, then he can gage exactly how far he has to go to get what he wants…or what his parents want at least. "If that's how you describe your friends, I'd hate to hear what you say about me."

Dick frowns, looking hurt and Tim can't help but think that he's just too easy. "What do you mean? I…I know we had kind of a rough first few weeks, but I'd like to think we're friends."

"Are we?"

"We're not enemies," he says and he looks like he's feeling almost bad. After a second, Dick crosses the space between them and takes a seat on the counter by Tim. It's perfect. Sure, Tim knows he wasn't exactly the nicest person he could ever be towards Dick, but it's not as if he's going to lose any sleep over it. Dick however, if he's even half as childish as Tim thinks he is, just might feel guilty if Tim plays this right.

"There's a pretty big gray area between friends and enemies Dick…I just-well after _you know_, I got the feeling I was just somewhere in there," he says complete with hand gestures to illustrate his point. It almost makes him want to gag. He never talks to Conner or Bart like this and thank God they've never talked to him like this. They've never had to figure out where their friendship stands before. They just knew. Honestly, he wouldn't even be having this stupid conversation and saying these things if it wasn't absolutely necessary.

"I didn't think you…I thought we were cool but-"

"And I thought we were just acquaintances, _maybe_? But I'd like to be, you know, friends I mean. I'd like to be civil and everything."

"Well yeah, so would I," he says taking a hand to Tim's shoulder. It takes everything he has for him not to cringe or pull away. If he has to live through a few weeks of Dick touching him, he'll take it. "I don't want you to hate working here or anything because of me Tim. I'd like us to be friends for the sake of that, if nothing else."

"Good then-" Tim starts, but he's cut off before he can finish.

"Am I interrupting something?" Barbara giggles from the hall doorway. Tim looks surprised, but Dick just rolls his eyes and hops down from the counter.

"No really," she laughs, "If you're having a guy moment or something, feel free to continue."

"As hilarious as that _isn't_ Barbara, we're actually done," he says walking towards her, "What's up though? Need something?"

"Yeah, I came out here for Tim actually," she says before turning towards him. The sudden attention definitely brings a little heat to his cheeks, which doesn't fail to go unnoticed by Dick. "Are you staying after tonight? I had some seasonal desserts I needed you to try."

Tim nods, trying not to sound too eager, "O-oh, yeah I can stay for a little bit."

She smiles before she and Dick exit laughing about something Damian did earlier. Tim goes back to swinging his feet from where he's sitting in the stool. He feels less anxious than he did earlier though. This might just be easier than he thought. If he can just manipulate Dick in his direction, he might just be able to weasel his way in. Lying and manipulation isn't really his style but maybe his mom was right, if acts like anybody other than himself he might have a chance.

* * *

"Okay so it's getting close to Fall and for that, I like to do some stuff with pumpkins and apples. Last year these were pretty popular, so I think these are the recipes I'm going to use again," Barbara explains as she sits across from Tim in their usual booth and motions towards the plate in front of her. "I've got chocolate chip pumpkin muffins, a caramel apple cupcake with caramel drizzle, pumpkin spice cake with cream cheese frosting, and apple spice tarts. Go ahead, tell me what you think."

Tim looks down at the plate and refrains from frowning. The apple he can live with, but pumpkin? He's never really been a fan of the pie and the idea of doing anything other than carving the strange orange fruit doesn't really sound all that appealing to him. Either way, Barbara hasn't steered him wrong before so he picks up a fork and tries the cake.

"So…"

To his surprise, this isn't the worst thing he's ever tasted. Actually he kind of likes it. "You know, this isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."

"Oh, so you thought it was going to be bad?" she pouts playfully.

He throws his hand up in defense and swallows hard, "N-no, it's not that. I just, I've never really liked pumpkin, but this is actually good."

He takes another bite and she smiles, "Good, I'm glad you like it. Try the muffin next then."

He picks up the muffin next, and takes a deep breath. Pumpkin and chocolate chips? Regardless he puts it in his mouth and once again, it surprises him. Before he can even say anything Barbara can tell he likes it and she's beaming. He's glad he can make her happy, but she catches him off guard when she takes her hand and places on top of his. He knows it doesn't mean what he'd like it to mean, but still, she's like actually _touching_ him.

"You like this one too huh? I'm two for four."

"Yeah, it seems you are," he blushes, glancing down at where her hand is on top of his. Is everybody around here that touchy? No, probably not. The last time either Jason or Damian touched somebody, it was probably to cause them some sort of physical harm.

And speak of the devil, the minute he thinks of them they walk out from the back with Dick beside them. He and Jason are laughing while Damian scowls, which is nothing new. He's seen Jason loosen up a little but he has yet to see if Damian knows how to smile without actually forcing it.

"Hey Babs, we're out of here," Dick calls, "You and Tim gonna be alright?"

"Yeah," she says, and Tim notices that she still has yet to move her hand from its spot. He sees all three males look over at it, but the only reaction he wants to see is Dick's. If he takes it badly, Tim will know their conversation earlier didn't really mean anything. Instead, the older male shoots him a quick smirk and he almost wants to draw his hand back, maybe out of like courtesy, and he's not sure why. He doesn't though.

"Alright, see you later. Bye Tim."

They start to walk towards the door and before they're out Tim stutters out, "U-ugh, yeah, bye Dick."

He doesn't expect Jason to look over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. He's not sure what Jason's thinking but he just shoots him a quick wave and hopes that Jason was just expecting his own personal goodbye.

* * *

The past week or so, he and Dick have kind of been talking, at least for a few minutes every day. Tim's been trying to be nice, no matter how much it makes him sick to his stomach to be so fake. He's got an agenda, and it kind of makes him feel like a bad person but it's like survival of the fittest. He's doing what he has to. He's hoping that if he's nice enough for the next week or two, he can just weasel his way into talking about the Master's program.

So far it's proving to be just as stressful as he first thought it would be. Now that they've gotten past their differences and kind of worked their way towards the title of friends, he's finding that it's harder to put up this front and maintain the title than it was to actually obtain it. He hates smiling so much, letting Dick touch him, and pretending to actually give a shit about whatever it is they're talking about; but he has to and it has to be convincing. It's got him feeling like he always needs to be on his toes just in case, so Dick doesn't catch him being fake or slipping up. It sucks. And it's definitely had Tim acting off for the last few days.

He knows he hasn't been paying Conner, Bart, and Steph as much attention as he usually does; and that when he's been around them the last few days, he hasn't been a hundred percent there. It's just, this is his life he's worrying about. He's been feeling like he can't totally relax until he knows he's got the in with Dick and he can tell that to his parents. He's been so busy entertaining Dick and playing the part of friend, he hasn't even managed to bring up the Master's thing yet. If he brings it up too early, then his entire ploy will be obvious; but if he brings it up too late, he risks losing the spot altogether. It's just stressful and it's been taking a toll for sure.

He'd like to say that he's got it under control, or that he will soon, but he can't…not when he's found himself in his room at least three nights this week with an empty box or something or other by his in the morning when he wakes up. It sucks. It does, but he made this bed himself and now he has to lie in it.

In fact, he wakes up in it Friday morning. Usually he'd be glad that it's the end of the week, but he still has to work through the weekend, so it's not exactly benefitting him any. He crawls out of bed, groaning as his hand crunches a plastic wrapper hidden under his sheets. It's incredibly sad but he tries to put it in the back of his mind as he forces himself to shower. Slowly he trudges out of the shower and dries off, grabbing his uniform shirt and buttoning it up.

Everything seems to be fine until he gets to his pants. He doesn't think anything of it until he's got them all the way up and the button won't seem to stretch over to the hole. Its _close_, but it just won't quite make it. Tim can't believe it. Sure, last week they were a little tight, but he assumed that was because they'd been washed and gotten _smaller_. Now it seems clear that he's just gotten _bigger_. He hasn't gotten bigger by a lot, nothing he can't conceal with his sweater, but nobody likes gaining weight, whether it's a few pounds or a ton.

Seeing as he just doesn't keep larger pants hidden in the back of his closet, even though he should because it's not like this is the first time he's ever had this issue, that would be an admittance of having a problem, and Tim doesn't think he has a problem…not one that serious at least. It's still bad enough that he knows he has to do something about it and he thinks he knows what that _something_ is.

He doesn't like it when it gets to this point. The eating part is kind of fun in a sick sort of way; but the gaining weight quickly and trying to lose it even faster is always the worst. It usually involves a sore throat and even sorer limbs; it's something he has to do though, unless he'd rather hear his parents ridicule him for gaining weight on top of everything else he does.

With his pants still undone, he searches around his room until he finds a temporary solution for his problem –a rubber band. It's perfect. He loops one end around his button and pulls the other end through the button hole in his pants, before then looping that end around the actual button too. It's a trick he picked up maybe a year or two ago when he first had this problem. It kept him from having to buy new pants and making his parents suspicious as to why. This way he can just cover the rubber band up with his belt, cover that with his sweater and go on about his day as if everything's fine…even though it's not, because while nobody else knows, he does and it's kind of a day ruiner. But what's he supposed to do? He can't tell anyone about what he's going through.

He knows he could probably vent to his friends, but he's done that enough here lately. They can't want to hear about his privileged kid problems all the time. Besides, he's been a little distant lately anyway. He'd rather just vent with food then constantly bother his friends, though so far that hasn't done much but force him to need new pants. He'd still Rather take his chances with that, than have any of his friends find out what's really going on…which is probably the reason Steph comes up to him at his locker before school Thursday morning with a glare on her face he knows is directed towards him.

"Tim," she says and by the tone of her voice, he can tell this is going to be serious.

"Um, hey?"

She wastes no time getting to the point, "You want to tell me why you've been ignoring my calls for over a week or acting detached when I actually see you?"

He turns away and takes a deep breath, taking a second to gather his thoughts. He can't exactly say, _'yeah sorry, I've been ignoring your calls at night because I'm too busy dealing with a box of Twinkies to talk to you,'_ or _'I've just been too stressed from faking this friendship with Dick to pay attention to you'. _In the end, he doesn't actually say anything.

"Bart and Conner say the same thing by the way, it's not just me."

He closes his locker door and turns to face her completely. "Steph can we not do this now please? I'm not in the mood." he states. His day's already started off bad enough. He really doesn't want to get into it with Stephanie too.

"Why not? You've been kind off all week. I'm just trying to make sure you're okay, especially considering the whole Dick-Master's program thing."

He knows Stephanie is being a good friend, but this is just bad timing. He's upset. He's stressed. He skipped breakfast, so he's hungry; and he's feeling overly self-conscious, for obvious reasons. "It's going fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine, okay?"

Tim glances down the hall, itching to just walk away from the conversation in general. Stephanie, of course, won't let him. She's always been a little on the stubborn side. Usually it would be a good thing. She can help keep Tim in line. Now though, well Tim's never had such a big issue on his plate and the last thing he's worrying about it whether he's acting 'okay' or not. His entire future is sort of riding on whether or not he's accepted into the Master's program this time.

"No it's not," she frowns at him. He catches her eye and immediately he has to look down. He doesn't like hurting her and he can tell he kind of is. "Tim?"

He answers, but doesn't look back at her. "Hmm?"

"You know I care about you right? I'm not just saying these things to bother you or cause you anymore stress than I'm sure you have with your job and college and school. I just…I don't want you to shut me out either…I me-mean none of us do."

Her tone is what really gets him. She sounds sad and it makes him feel guilty. "I'm sorry. I just, I've got a lot going on and I didn't really want to bother you guys with my problems all the time."

"You wouldn't be bothering us Tim."

He doesn't argue. It wouldn't help anything. He just lets her win. "Look, I'll do better okay?"

She raises an eyebrow and speaks to him in a more playful, whiny, tone, "You promise?"

The sound of her voice makes him laugh a little, and it'll probably be the only time he does all day. "Yes, I promise," he mocks.

"We'll see. You better not be lying to me Timothy."

* * *

"So…" Dick says that afternoon, sitting on the counter by Tim. "Barbara?"

The younger male can immediately feel himself starting to blush and it makes him feel like an idiot. Of course his body would betray him like that. This might literally be the worst day ever. "What about her?"

"Come on Tim," says Dick, rolling his eyes, "You like her right?"

He's caught off guard, by the whole conversation in general honestly. He doesn't know where this is coming from or what brought about this topic. He's not even sure what to say, and the first thing he manages is, "Ugh…"

"Well, it's not like you're into the cute blonde girl that came to see you that one day. Besides, I've seen the way you look at Babs."

Tim narrows his eyes, not exactly sure what's going on here. He has to be a little skeptical, especially after the day Dick accused him of wanted what he deemed as _his_. Sure, they've been getting along better since they had their 'friendly' conversation, but Tim still has his guard up just in case. If nothing else, this could be mildly embarrassing.

Even though he's been sort of pissy all day, for now he plays along. "That obvious, huh?"

"If you know what to look for."

Tim takes that as an allude to Dick's playboy-ish ways. He probably knows a thing or two about crushes and attraction and all that.

"Well, I know you two have a ugh…_thing_ going on between you. I'm not going to invade your territory if that's what this is about."

"Oh no," Dick's eyes go wide and his hands shoot up, "No, that's not why I bring it up. I know what I said before, but that's in the past right? And you know we're not dating or anything…"

"Are you suggesting something?" There's a little edge in his voice and he hopes Dick can take a hint and get to the point. He's not in the mood to waste time right now. Maybe it's because he hasn't eaten anything all day, but he's a little on edge.

Dick shrugs, "Maybe? I'm just throwing it out there…and she might have expressed having an eye on you too." He gives Tim a side glance and a suggestive smirk that almost idiot could decipher.

Tim raises and eyebrow and takes it all in for a second. Barbara? Having an eye on him? It's just a little hard to believe. It's not like he's never been hit on before, or gone on a date or anything of the sort. Barbara just seems a little out of his league. He assumed she was just being friendly when they split desserts and talked, not actually interested. Besides, she's gorgeous, could probably have any guy she wanted. She's had Dick, that's an accomplishment in itself. Plus, there's the age gap to think of and while Tim's all for older women, he didn't peg Barbara as the type for younger guys.

"You look apprehensive," the older male states after a few moments of silence.

Tim takes a deep breath and admits, "I might be." He can't say he's feeling the most confident today. Who would when they've got a rubber band holding their pants together under their work hoodie? It's not exactly a self-esteem booster.

"Not sure how to approach the situation?"

"Not at all."

"Are you going to even try or…" When Tim shrugs, Dick just rolls his eyes in mild frustration, "You're not a fan of being out of you element, are you?"

"Who is?"

"I guess most people aren't, but some people are at least willing to branch out, try new things."

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm not really a fan of branching out," Tim deadpans.

"You like being in control. Believe me, I've noticed. You seem to get a little anxious when things make you uncomfortable."

Tim immediately opens his mouth to counter the statement, but he can't say it isn't true. He does get kind of anxious. He just thought he was better at hiding it. "No…well maybe a little. Doesn't everybody though? It's a natural reaction."

"Maybe…maybe not…but you can't let you hold that back all the time. Sometimes you have to, you know, make a move and see what comes of it."

"As true as that probably is, I doubt that advice would work for everybody."

Dick just shrugs, seeing that he probably isn't going to get anywhere. He put it out there at least. Tim can do what he wants with it. "You'll never know until you try."

"Bu-," Tim starts but doesn't get to finish. He's interrupted by Jason stepping into the lobby and pointing towards Dick.

"Hey, Barbara needed you in the back for something."

Dick nods, but Jason lingers, looking between him and Tim for a second with a raised eyebrow. He crosses his arms and finally Dick rolls his eyes and says, "Tell her I'm coming alright?" Before he leaves, he turns towards Tim, "Just think about what I said okay?"

* * *

It's almost the end of the night and Tim's definitely been thinking. What the hell is he supposed to do with what Dick said? So Barbara is…_interested_…As much as he'd _like_ to, he's probably not going to do anything about it. He's got too much to worry about, like schmoozing Dick or fitting back into his pants, to worry about love or sex or whatever it is Barbara wants. Thinking about how to even approach the subject would only create more problems he doesn't need. It's not like he doesn't like her, it's just he wouldn't even know how to go about it and he doesn't really even have time to think it through either.

It's as he's mulling this over in his mind when Jason comes out with a cake in hand to stick in the display case. There's only ten, maybe fifteen, minutes left until they close. He doesn't really need to bring out a new item, but the case does look nicer when everything is filled he guesses.

Tim doesn't even see Jason approach him until he's right beside him and speaking to him, "Can I ask you something?"

It shocks Tim out of his thoughts. He even jumps a little before turning towards Jason, "U-um yeah. What's going on?"

Jason crosses his arm over his chest and stares Tim right in his eyes, "What's going on with you and Dick?"

The first thing Tim does is pull his gaze away from Jason's and shift it down towards the floor. "I…ugh, what do you mean?"

"Well, you two seem a lot _friendlier_ than before. When did that happen?"

Tim's not sure what's going on or why for that matter. Is Jason interrogating him? Did he do something wrong? "A little more than a week ago I guess. We talked."

"And so now you're best friends?"

He thinks about answering but before another unconfident question can leave his mouth, his face is shooting up and he's narrowing his eyes. He's not sure if he's being challenged but it sure feels like it. "Why does it matter?"

"I'm just surprised is all," Jason shrugs, seeming incredibly nonchalant all of a sudden. That must be a practiced trait in Wayne Manor because Tim's seen Dick use that move all too well too. "I mean, after what he said to you before, I just wasn't really expecting you guys to resolve things like that."

"What he said to me?" Tim questions.

"Yeah, you know, about him doing you a favor and staying on his good side so on and so forth," Jason summarizes, complete with hand motions.

"You know about that?"

"Yeah, I'm his _brother_. Who do you think he vented to afterwards?"

It makes sense, he guesses. Dick is a social creature. Tim should've expected him to mention their little chat to someone. As if he could've really expected the older male to keep it to himself.

"What's your point?"

"Look, I could honestly care less who you choose to talk to or be friends with or _whatever_. However, I actually kind of like you, I don't _hate_ you, so…Just be careful alright?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dick isn't as, _clueless_, as he seems. I know you weren't that fond of him before and I don't know what's changed now, but something's clearly different. Whatever that reason is, I hope for your sake it's genuine."

Tim raises an eyebrow and tilts his head slightly. He wonders if this is some sort of threat. Jason and Dick are brothers, they have to be protective of each other right; and Jason looks like he can be sort of a scary guy. He could definitely be intimidating.

"Why?"

"You seem like a decent kid, _shitty parents_, but decent kid and because of that, I just…I'd rather not see my brother eat you alive."

* * *

Tim's grateful when Barbara tells him that she has somewhere to be after work, but that they can hang out together tomorrow. After this morning and then Dick and finally Jason, he's not really in the mood to stick around. Besides, if what Dick said was true, then she'd probably be expecting Tim to make a move or something and he still isn't sure what to do about that…then again now he's not sure if he should believe Dick at all after what Jason said. Maybe this is all part of some plot to humiliate him. Tim thought he was going to play Dick, but what if Dick has plans to play him?

That's a depressing thought. If that's the case, then Tim is definitely screwed. There goes his lifestyle, there goes his trust fund, and there goes his family. They may not be the best parents ever, but they are the only parents he's ever had. They kept him. That has to count for something, doesn't it?

As of this moment, Tim's not really sure what he's doing. He's been putting in the effort for almost two weeks. He's going to have to resubmit his application pretty soon here and he'd feel better doing it knowing that all of his effort wasn't for nothing. He's been ignoring his friends because of this and upsetting them isn't worth it. Plus, he's stress eating again and it's starting to get bad and that's definitely not worth it. He wishes there was some way to know, to know who is actually holding the cards. Dick holds the cards as far as his job is concerned. He'd like to know he at least holds the cards in this hand.

He hears Barbara in the back, saying something to Damian and it hits him. _Her_. That's how he'll figure it out. He'll test it out and see if Dick was serious or not. If he makes a move on Barbara and she accepts it, he'll know Dick was being serious and probably isn't trying to play him. If she rejects his advance, then it'll be obvious that Dick's gaining his trust to ultimately ruin him and probably worse than just being turned down by a pretty girl.

As he works out the kinks in his head, all he can seem to focus on is what's going to happen if Dick's screwing with him instead. It'll be pretty bad if he is. Just _thinking_ about how he won't get into the program and how mad his parents would be is making him restless enough. Everything he'd ever worked for would be over and suddenly he be going into the real world with nothing all because of Dick Grayson, a bakery, and some stupid business program. As much as he'd like to say that it wouldn't be that bad, that he would figure it out, he wasn't so sure. He couldn't even keep a handle on the way he ate, let alone, try a get a handle on his entire life once his parents disowned him.

The more he thought about it, the more he panics internally. His day couldn't have been worse, and it's only about to go downhill from here because he's getting the feeling, the one he always gets when he knows he just wants to drown all of his problems in food. Every part of his rational mind is telling him not to do it, screaming, begging him to just go home. If he waits it out it'll probably just go away, but he seldom waits it out. Instead he finds himself grabbing a box and heading towards the display case. He fills it with a dozen random cupcakes and then swipes them to one of his cards before getting in his car to drive home.

He knows he shouldn't. It's a terrible idea because after this, there's no turning back. This is when things usually start to get bad, well they're already bad, so worse. He knows he should stop now. His pants were a clear indication of that. If he touches even one of these cupcakes he's going to feel disgusting. He knows that. He's been feeling gross enough all day without actually eating anything. He knows he's not fat, but he's gone up a pants size and that makes him _feel_ fat…and feeling fat makes him feel depressed, and being depressed makes him want to eat and eating makes him feel like a failure. That makes him feel out of control and then all he wants is to feel in control again.

He pulls into the driveway and stares at the box in the passenger seat. He doesn't _have_ to eat it. He definitely _shouldn't_ eat it, but he's just got so much on his mind and so much is happening. He'd just like to take a second to relax, clear his mind, calm down a little. So he turns the car off and opens the box. He pulls the first cupcake out and carefully undoes the wrapping paper surrounding it. Finally he closes his eyes and draws the cake to his mouth. The minute his lips touch down, it's like he's almost instantly calm. He feels okay for a second and it's a good feeling. It's like he can think straight. He wastes no time swallowing the first one and moving onto the second and then the third. Even when he's several cupcakes sure he's had his fill, he grabs the next one and forces it down. From then on his pace is slower, but he doesn't stop. Once he's started, once he lets it get to this point, he _can't_ stop, not until everything is done.

He finishes the last bite of the last cupcake and takes a second to try and catch his breath. Something as effortless as eating shouldn't take the wind out of you like this, but it surprising. It's always harder to breathe after a binge. His stomach aches, _a lot_, and if his pants were too tight before, even with this rubber band giving him a little wiggle room, they're still uncomfortable. He doesn't want to get up, or even move a muscle. He just wants to lean back in his car seat and, well, die because this is just pitiful.

He just sat in his car and ate an entire box of cupcakes by himself. He's outgrowing his clothes again, he knows what that's like. He knows what he's going to have to do now, but yet he still couldn't stop himself. He's sick and disgusting and every bit as pathetic as his parents think he is. And even though he felt fine while he was doing, he feels like shit now that it's over, now that what he's been doing to himself has once again caught up with him. Sometimes he wishes he knew a different way to vent, but he imagines if he wasn't eating he'd probably be doing something like cutting and the way he sees it, this is the lesser of the two evils. Eating doesn't leave scars, stretch marks maybe, but Tim would really have to let himself go for that to ever happen. He's never been _that_ bad or that big.

As he thinks about how out of control he's let this become again, tears start to brim his eyes. Tim doesn't let them fall though, because he can fix this. If nothing else, he can do something about this. He always does. So after a few more deep breaths and gathering the will power to actually move, he grabs his book bag and drags his feet slowly into his house. He just wants to make it to his bathroom where he can do some damage control before all the calories he just shoved down his throat start to settle in his stomach. He's about to trudge up the stairs when his mother calls him from the living room.

"Timothy, come here for a second?"

Of course she would, and of all the times. He bites his tongue and walks into the room, feeling more anxious with every step. Every second he spends away from his bathroom is another calorie settling somewhere on his body. She motions for him to take a seat across from her and reluctantly he sets his bag down on the couch and takes a seat.

"So," she says, crossing her legs and looking at him with curious eyes, "How are things?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you _think_ I mean Timothy? I'm not asking you about your day."

His leg is beginning to shake as he thinks about getting out of this conversation and bolting upstairs. "Fine, making progress I guess."

"Have you resubmitted your application yet?"

"Not yet," he answers, glancing at the doorway anxiously.

"And what exactly are you waiting for?"

"I ugh…I guess I was just trying to focus on Dick first. I was going to handle it."

"You better. I hope you're not stalling with hopes that we'll forget. You remember the repercussions if you fail to secure the spot this time, right?"

He just nods.

"Good. I'm glad we're seeing eye to eye here. Your father will be home in an hour and we'll have dinner shortly after that."

"Mhmm," he answers as he bolts up. He regrets that immediately, because his stomach doesn't seem to enjoy the idea of rapid movement.

He makes it upstairs as fast as he can and slips into the bathroom attached to his bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind him. He stares at the toilet, an appliance he's all too familiar with. He's spent plenty of time draped over it, puking his guts out and he wishes he could just say it was because he was drunk but he's not that lucky.

Even though nobody's ever caught him before, he runs some water to help muffle the sound of him retching. Next he grabs an old toothbrush and kneels down in front of the seat, forcing the end with no bristles down his throat. He's done this enough that his gag reflex isn't that strong anymore. It's a lot easier to throw up now that when he first started. After a gag or two, its working and cupcakes definitely do not taste as good coming up as they do going down, even if they're not completely digested. The bile burns his throat and makes his eyes tear up, but he doesn't stop. It feels too good. Just like eating, it's another high. It makes him feel less frantic, more in control and he likes it. It's a relief.

He keeps throwing up until he's just dry heaving. He has to, to make sure there's nothing left. There can't be anything left. Anything is too much. Finally, when he's done, he stands up and goes to the sink to rinse his mouth out and brush his teeth. Once he's done, it's like it never even happened…that is,

_until it happens again_.

* * *

Janet Drake, has never been one for clutter. She may not do the cleaning herself, but she still will not tolerate a disheveled house. It reflects a lack or order and discipline that she just will not have. So when Tim leaves his backpack on her newly upholstered Venetian sofa, she is mildly outraged. She swears he does things like this on purpose sometimes, to irritate her, because he simply can't be that careless and that stupid.

She doesn't want to actually lay her hands on the old thing, he refuses to use the new designer one she bought his a few weeks ago in favor of this disgrace; but if she sends the help to take it upstairs she won't be able to scold Timothy herself. So she sucks it up and takes one of the straps in her hand and takes the bag upstairs to his room.

She knocks, but there's no answer. The door isn't locked, so she walks in and the first thing she notices is that she can hear water running in the bathroom. She could care less what he's doing. She just wants to make sure he knows not the leave his dusty junk on her expensive couch ever again. Janet is about to take her hand to his bathroom door when she hears it, the distinct sound of someone throwing up, even with the water running she knows that sound. But why would Tim be…he didn't seem sick earlier. He did seem to be in a rush though, and why would someone be in a rush to throw up unless –_no._

There was _no way_.

That would just be a joke. But then again, this is Timothy that we're talking about…She had an idea, but she'd have to know for sure before she could say anything and that would require research. She takes a seat on her son's bed and pulls out her phone. She logs into the family banking apps and begins to pull up Tim's accounts and cards. She goes through the purchases and some of them are regular things like filling up his gas tank or picking up extra school supplies, but as she goes through she sees impractical amounts of money frequently spent at fast food restaurants, grocery stores, and even a few swipes at the bakery he works at –including one from today.

So she was right.

Her son, Timothy Drake, had an eating disorder. It made sense, if she really thought about it. The way his moods were, or the way he ate sometimes. She remembered once or twice asking him if he'd put on weight. She'd seen him work out excessively some nights or heard him roaming around in the kitchen on others. So at least he wasn't addicted to coke or underage gambling, sure that was a plus; but it still wasn't a good thing. What would happen if everyone found out? How would that make them look? He _definitely_ wouldn't grab the last slot in the program now. Why would anyone trust Timothy to run a business if he couldn't even keep his life straight?

Of all the things to happen to all the children in Gotham, of course this would happen to hers. She wasn't unfamiliar with eating disorders, not in this society. She knew how these things worked and she was sure with Timothy it would be no different, but they couldn't do anything about it or tell anyone. She was trying to figure out how to approach this, when she heard the familiar sound of a doorknob turning.

* * *

Tim stepped out into his bedroom, wiping the stray water from around his mouth with the back of his sleeve, when he saw the last person he wanted to see sitting on his bed. For a brief second his heart stopped as he stuttered, "M-mom? What are…what are you doing in my room?"

"Well," she starts casually, "I came up here to tell you to keep your disgusting backpack off of my Venetian sofa, but I think there's something else we should probably discuss instead."

"And what's that?" he asks, holding his breath and praying that she's not about to say anything about what he was just doing.

"I know what you were doing in there."

He swears he can literally feel his heart drop in his chest. She can't be serious…there was no way, after all this time. Almost immediately he can feel his body start to shake and his voice waver, "Wh-wha-"

"So what is it? You're a bulimic now or what?"

"I'm not-"

"You binge and then you throw up right?" she stares at Tim for some sort of clarification but he doesn't answer. She can see he's still devastated by the fact that she found out anything at all. "I said, you binge and then you throw it all back up don't you?"

He looks away and barely nods.

"That's what I thought."

"It's not that simple. It's not always like that. It's not always that b-" That _bad_, he wants to say, but he's not sure who he'd be trying to convince.

"How long? How long have you been doing, _well_ whatever it is you're doing?"

"A few years I guess. I-it comes and goes…"

"But of course, it's come back right now, of all the times."

Tim wishes she would just get to the point instead of dragging it out like this. He knows she's pissed. She's always upset with him, more often than not actually. He can imagine whatever's going to be done, he's not going to like it. "S-so what are you going to do about it?"

"I haven't decided yet. But I can tell you what we're _not_ going to do. We're not going to tell anybody, especially not your father. He's so dead set on you getting into this program, if he has to send you away to get some sort of help or have you quit your job to attend therapy, he'll be infuriated. This would be easier on all of us if you would just stop."

He raises an eyebrow. She can't be serious. "Just stop? It doesn't exactly work like that."

"Or you're just too pathetic to try, and I think we both know which one it is. This better not get in the way of you getting into this program. This isn't going to be some sort of excuse, so don't even try it. I will not have you embarrassing this family again because of that or because of this. Figure out some self-control and try to see to it that one else finds out about this, understand?"

He nods, "Y-yeah, I understand."

* * *

Well, theres a lot to think about this chap. I hope you enjoyed and Id love to hear what you think, esp regarding the Tim/Dick situation. who do you think is really playing who? plz, leave a comment


	6. Chapter 6

soo i know its been a long time, dont shoot me x| im sorry

ive mulled over and written and edited this chapter a buncha times, thats what took so long. i think i finally got it to where i wanted, or at least as good as its gonna get

anyways...thanks again for the reviews and things :) i shouldve updated sooner ik

i hope u enjoy this chp.

i do not own yj

* * *

6

"Eat you alive?" asks Stephanie over the phone.

"Yeah," answers Tim dryly, "That's what he said."

He hears the familiar sound of laughing on the other end and he doesn't understand what's so funny about this conversation. "_A-hem_."

"I'm sorry Tim, it's just…it's kind of funny, like in a cheesy high school TV drama sort of way. I don't think you have too much to be worried about and even if you do, at least Jason was nice enough to warn you right?"

Tim dropped down onto his bed and looked up at the ceiling above him. He just needed to talk to someone and help keep his mind off the fact that his mother caught him in the bathroom just a few hours earlier. "I guess so. I just…I don't know what to think honestly. I can't tell if he's really looking out for me, or if they're all just looking out for each other and then Dick told me that-" he hesitates before actually finishing the statement. He tells Steph a lot but he's not sure if he should tell her about the Barbara thing. That might just be a little much.

"Dick told you _what_?"

"Oh n-nothing. It was just something stupid about the hours next week," he lies, "I'll just be happy when it's all over and I don't have to worry about this anymore."

"I'll be happy for you. I never imagined having a job and applying to college could be _this_ stressful for anyone, but you seem to be handling it well."

Tim rolls his eyes at that, grateful that Steph's not here to see him. She has no idea how he's really handling it and he's happy about that. It's bad enough that his mom found out and is probably judging him right now as she lies in bed. He doesn't need Stephanie or anyone else judging him too. "Thanks, I'm trying I guess. I should've just gotten a job somewhere else, anywhere else."

"Why don't you just quit and apply somewhere else? Does it really matter where you work as long as you just have a job?"

"Ha," Tim scoffs at Steph's obvious naivety. It's almost kind of cute. "At this point, I'm pretty sure that's out of the question. I don't think there's any other job on earth that would be good enough. If I quit this one, my parents would never let me live it down no matter what other job I managed to land. I could be the president and they'd still be mad at me for quitting."

"Your parents are difficult," she states with a defeated sigh a few moments later. It seems as if almost all of her suggestions get turned down.

He glances around his room and offers an unseen shrug, "I know, but it's not like I can do anything about it so…"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but it doesn't seem like you _try_ too hard to do anything either. I mean all you ever seem to do is shoot all of my ideas down without any real consideration."

It's hard not to take it the wrong way. Almost immediately Tim's defensives are shooting up. "_Try?_ And what exactly do you propose I do in this situation Steph? I can either do what they tell me to or I can get out of my house. I know we like to joke that I could come stay with you, but I highly doubt your mother would welcome in another mouth to feed with open arms."

"I just…Have you ever tried, I don't know, maybe talking it out?"

"Why would I?"

Her voice seems to shrink as she answers, "I don't…I don't know Tim. Maybe just to see what would happen, to at least say you did? It's like you give up without-you know what? I was just trying to help, but never mind. Just forget I asked okay?"

He shrugs it off and rolls over in his bed onto his stomach. Maybe he's rushing to end the conversation, but he suddenly doesn't feel the urge to vent anymore. "Look Steph, I gotta go. I have to work tomorrow."

"Y-yeah, alright. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Y-yeah sure, tomorrow…" he offers before just hanging up on the phone call altogether. There's no point in even getting into addressing his parents, so why even continue the conversation? It was just going to lead to nowhere anyway.

* * *

Saturday morning Tim is up and all he wants to do is crawl further into his bed and possibly stay there forever. He's got a million things running through his head and it's hard to just focus on one of them because they all seem pretty overwhelming. He tries to handle the basics before he even begins to consider everything else going on in his life. He gets dressed first, which is sort of an ordeal in itself now. Then he grabs his keys and makes his way downstairs.

He walks past the kitchen, figuring that he can just grab something on the way if he gets hungry. He doesn't have much of an appetite between thinking of what happened last night or what Jason said or what he's supposed to do with Barbara or anything lately. Of course, just before he makes it to the door, he can hear the shrill sound of his mother's voice calling him, "_Timothy!_"

He stops and completely regrets doing so. He should've just walked out of the door and pretended not to hear her but it's too late now. Slowly Tim appears in the kitchen doorway and he can see his mother sitting at the breakfast table with a fake smile plastered all over her face and food laid out in front of them.

Janet extends her hands towards one of the seats and gestures for him to sit down, "Join me for a second?" she says. It sounds like a question, but he knows it's an order. Awkwardly, he takes the seat across from her and sits down with his hands in his lap. Tim can only imagine what she's going to say after she caught him throwing up last night. It could literally be anything.

They sit in silence for the first few moments and he just watches her sip orange juice or takes bites from her plate. After another minute, she raises an eyebrow and points to the food spread out in the middle of the table. "Eat something before you have to go to work."

He looks around but shakes his head. He's not really sure when he'll be comfortable eating in front of his mom again, especially if she's going to be watching him at every meal like she is now. "I'm n-I'm not hungry."

She raises a skeptical eyebrow and looks him up and down with what he assumes to be disgust, "Really? You honestly expect me to believe that."

He fidgets in his seat and takes a deep breath but doesn't say or do anything.

"Don't be dramatic about this Timothy. I told you to figure out some sort of control, not just take it to another extreme."

"I'm not."

"You better not be. I'm not going to let this phase, or whatever it is you're going through, embarrass this family. In fact, I refuse."

"I know."

"And I don't want you're strange habits drawing any suspicions either, so handle it."

"I will. I-I am."

"So be normal and eat something." Helplessly he watches as she puts food on his plate. She forces the plate towards him and narrows her eyes, waiting for him to start eating.

He looks between the plate and her, biting his lip. "I don't think trying to force it like this is going to help the problem."

"Well maybe if you started eating regular amounts and the regular times you wouldn't feel the need binge and then throw it all up afterwards."

Tim sighs, realizing this isn't an argument he's going to win and if he keeps arguing he's going to be late for work. It's not like he's never eaten when he wasn't hungry before, but it was usually his choice. Something about this feels wrong. Regardless he forces down the breakfast under her watchful eye so that he can leave.

"Was that so hard?" she asks when he's done and all he can do is shake his head. He feels like he's going to throw up and for once it isn't because he's doing it himself.

Not wanting to spend another minute in her presence, Tim stands up and walks towards the doorway without a word. Janet lets out a condescending laugh and calls out to him, "Bye Timothy! Have a good day!"

* * *

The entire drive to work, Tim just feels sick. There's an uneasiness in his stomach that's different than any of the times he ever thrown up. He can't imagine what his next few months are going to be like if his mother is going to try and regulate what and when he's eating whenever she gets the chance. He wonders if she really even cares or if this is just something else she thinks she can use to control his life like the Master's program? It wasn't fair honestly. This was the one thing he was supposed to have to complete control of in his life and she was even finding a way to ruin that. He's definitely upset, but he doesn't get a chance to really think about it before he's pulling into to parking lot of Barbara's and mechanically dragging himself into the building.

Everyone else is already there starting their jobs and so he follows suit, taking a seat behind the counter. He doesn't even pretend to be interested in what's going on around the bakery. He lays his chin in his hand and rings up the occasional pastry. It isn't long before someone notices how off he seems to be. It's not that he ever really looks all that interested in being there, but today he looks especially distant.

"Is something wrong?" he hears over his shoulder.

There are no customers in the bakery at the moment so he glances over his shoulder and then turns around in his stool, "Hmm?"

Barbara frowns, looking concerned, "I asked if you were okay. You're not sick or anything are you?"

His eyebrows shoot up. He's honestly a little surprised. He knew he wasn't putting one hundred percent into work today but he didn't think it was so obvious that someone had to come talk to him about it. Tim's just thankful it isn't Dick that comes to talk to him. He's not sure if he could handle all that right now.

"S-sick? No, I'm not sick. I'm fine actually."

"Oh, well are you sure everything's alright? You just seem a little off today."

Tim's about to just nod it off and go on with his moping, but then he realizes it wouldn't be conducive to his future plans. He's not sure, but he doesn't think Barbara would continue to be interested if she thought he was mentally unstable or something. Why she's interested at all is beyond him, or if she really even is, but he'd at least like his chance to find out. So he sucks it up for a second and decides now would be as good a time as any to plant a seed and see her reaction.

"I seem off?" he forces a smirk, and straightens his posture a little, "How am I usually?"

"Well you're always a little quiet and laid back, but today you seem preoccupied, like your mind is somewhere more important."

"So you keep tabs on me?"

An embarrassed smile forces its way onto her face and the red head tries to play it off by rolling her eyes, "No I do not keep tabs on you. I'm far too busy running a bakery to notice what you're doing."

"Oh, so you ignore me. Barbara I'm hurt." He jokingly brings a hand to his chest in mock pain. She laughs a little before he notices her smile fading.

"Why do you always do that?" she asks.

Tim has no idea what she's talking about, "Do what?"

"Call me by my whole name all the time. You know you've been working here a few weeks now and we're friends right? You don't have to be so formal. It's not like I call you Timothy or anything."

"I didn't realize that was a problem," he offers, genuinely confused. "Would you prefer I call you something else, like Babs…or what about Barbie?"

Immediately her face scrunches up, "Eww no, not Barbie…Babs, Babs is fine. Unless you've got something better you'd like to run by me?" She offers a smile and the way she starts to tilt her head or "casually" twirl her hair in her finger isn't lost on Tim by any means. Maybe she is interested? He definitely plans on, or maybe _needs_, to find out.

"Can't think of anything right now, but I'll think on it and maybe I'll run them by you after work?"

"Cool, I've got some new cupcakes I'd like you to try anyway." They exchange smiles and nods and just before Barbara goes back to the kitchen she looks over her shoulder and asks, "But you really are okay right?"

He isn't expecting that, her to _actually_ care. He thought she was just asking to make sure he wouldn't get sick all over the pastries or scare away customers with his attitude, but she might have been asking to check on him. The edges of his lips curl up a little and he shrugs, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

* * *

It's around lunchtime when Tim feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and it surprises him. He doesn't really text during work, not really. Sometimes Bart or Stephanie send him some of those ridiculous internet memes they see or Conner might ask about an assignment, but that's really it. So when his phone says that he has a message from his mom, he's definitely surprised. His mother never texts him. She's more of the phone calls and irritated voicemails type of parent.

Reluctantly, he checks the message and the first thing he thinks is that he wishes he hadn't. Is it too much to ask for a simple text that says 'I love you' or 'have a nice day'? Even Wally texts Bart words of encouragement on days he has a test or a meet and they're just cousins. The message is far from encouraging; instead it reads _'REMEMBER…DON'T OVERDUE IT'_.

He slips his phone back into his pocket without a reply. He's too busy focusing on the sick feeling that he had finally gotten over, crawling its way back into his stomach. If that's what she was going to choose to be her first text to her son, he would rather she had just never texted him at all. So far all's she's done is managed to make him feel more ashamed than he already did.

When Dick finally comes in to relieve him of his duties for his lunch break, Tim is all too eager to leave. For once, instead of going to the back to read, he actually gets in his car. He keeps telling himself that he's just going to drive around to blow off steam, but even he isn't surprised when he pulls into the nearest fast food drive-thru. The only thing that text made him want to do was go out and binge more. He'd like to think that he's sitting in the car ordering enough food for two or three people as a way of spiting his mother, but that's not true. He's only hurting himself in the long run. He knows that…which is what leads him to the bathroom of a gas station down the street from his job, throwing up his lunch all before he goes back to work.

* * *

Usually she wouldn't care so much. Stephanie and Tim have disagreements all the time and they get over it. It's just that with everything that's been going on in his life, she feels like arguing with him last night just added to it. So, she decides to be the bigger person and just go apologize.

She's hoping he's on his lunch break right now so they can talk freely for a little bit. He says that usually he just reads in the back so that's what she's banking on when she walks in. The first thing she notices is that Dick Grayson is sitting behind the counter and her stomach knots up a little bit with nervousness. Sure, he's just a regular guy but…well, nobody should look this perfect. It's intimidating.

The second he notices her, Dick is looking up and smiling. "Hey, I remember you. You're Tim's friend…Stephanie right?"

She nods slowly as she walks towards the counter. She's hoping that the blush on her cheeks isn't that noticeable. "Yeah."

"Well, I'm Dick," he says pointing to his chest, "You know, just in case you didn't remember."

"O-oh no, I remember."

"Good to know."

She smiles and before she can embarrass herself but doing something like twirling her hair around her fingers, a move she's sure he's seen a thousand times, Stephanie looks around.

"Is Tim in the back?" she asks.

"Um, no actually. He left."

"O-_oh_." She can't say she isn't surprised. Of all the days for Tim to leave, of course it would be when she comes to make sure there were no hard feelings from last night. "Well I ugh…I guess-"

"You can stay if you want and wait for him. He should be back soon."

The thought of sitting in the same room with Dick Grayson is kind of nerve wracking but like a mini dream come true in Stephanie's eyes, like the equivalent of meeting your celebrity crush. She just hopes she doesn't embarrass herself.

Dick eyes Stephanie up and down, and he has to say he finds her obvious discomfort adorable. She's nervous around him and that's cute. It's better than having a girl throw themselves at him to the point where they humiliate themselves. It's a lot more endearing. He was honestly surprised when Tim told him they weren't dating. Something tells Dick they'd be good together, but then again it's Tim. He's like oblivious to most aspects of life in general.

"So, why are you looking for Tim?" he asks, hoping to break the ice a little bit.

She looks over, a little thrown off by the question. "Um…"

"If it's like personal, you don't have to tell me."

Stephanie's a little leery at first, but Dick really doesn't seem so bad, despite what Tim thinks of him. It wouldn't hurt anything to talk to him for a few minutes while she waits.

"No, it's fine. I'm just surprised that you're interested is all."

"Really?" he cocks his head to the side with a mix of confusion and a twinge of hurt on his face, "Why's that?"

"I don't know. I just assumed you would have better things to think about I guess."

"What would give you that idea…not those Gotham tabloids I hope?" he laughs and something about his laugh makes Stephanie feel more comfortable. She finds herself laughing with him, but not a nervous laugh. It's actually genuine.

"Actually yeah, that's _exactly _where I got that idea from."

"Oh my God, that's so embarrassing. You have no idea how often one of those stories comes back to haunt me."

"Like now for example?"

"Exactly."

"You know if I was you, I'd be flattered. I mean yeah, there's the gossip, but a lot of the articles at least try to paint you in a really endearing light." Maybe it's a fudge of the truth, but what could it hurt? The way Tim makes it sound, Dick is a little sensitive and padding his ego would probably only help her in the long run.

"You think?"

"Yeah," she shrugs, "Sure."

A broad smile comes to his lips before his eyes suddenly go wide. Stephanie hopes something isn't wrong, that she didn't say anything to cause this but that isn't the case. "I just realized that we've been talking this whole time and I never even offered you anything. Do you want anything?"

She surveys the display cases for a minute with pursed lips.

"If you're having a hard time, I could recommend the apple tart. It's a personal favorite," he winks and that's just it for Stephanie. She's never really been _that_ kind of girl, but damn it if Dick Grayson winks at you, it's got to count for something.

After a second she nods and agrees. "Alright, why not?"

Triumphantly, the male smiles and begins bagging up the pastry for Stephanie. He hands her the bag adorned with Barbara's logo, but sticks his hand out in opposition when she goes to pay.

"Oh come on, I couldn't make you pay for this."

Stephanie's brows lower, almost insulted and she lays a five down on the counter anyway. She knows that not what he meant, but she hates feeling pitied by people. It's not like he was giving it to her for free because _they_ were friends, but because she was _Tim's _friend. That's not the same. "Thanks but you really don't have to do that."

He can sense that this isn't worth arguing about, so Dick just frowns and rings up her purchase. "_If you insist_," he says as he writes up her receipt. She takes it and is about to stuff it in her wallet without a second thought, but stops when Dick gestures towards it. "You're not even gonna check it and make sure it's right?"

She raises an eyebrow, wondering why she would have to do that, but looks down anyway. Written at the bottom is a phone number and when she looks up he's flashing a perfectly cute and seductive smile at her. She just laughs before folding it up and sliding it in her pocket, "Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"I was kind of hoping you would be. Was I wrong?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but the fact that you have to question it makes it kind of adorable."

* * *

Sick.

That's how Tim feels when he's walking back into the bakery after his lunch break. He can't believe he really did that. While it felt good in the moment, _because when does eating ever really suck_, he feels like shit now. He just forced down a couple thousand calories at once and then made himself to throw up in a disgusting gas station bathroom, how sad is that? Who _does_ that? Not only is it gross, but it's not normal and just pathetic. Now he can't help but just feel a little ashamed of his lack of self-control.

He doesn't think it can get any worse as he drags his feet through the doors…at least until he sees Stephanie. She isn't the problem of course, it's the fact that she's leaning over the counter laughing with Dick and looking like she's having the time of her life. If he had anything left in his stomach, he'd be throwing that up too.

"Oh hey Tim!" Dick suddenly beams, forcing Tim to put a smile on his face.

"Hey Dick and…Stephanie. What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you actually. I didn't think you were actually going to take your break."

He awkwardly shrugs, "Yeah, bad timing I guess." What he really wants is to ask her why she would stick around and casually chat it up with Dick instead.

"Well, I can watch the register for a few more minutes if you still need to talk," Dick offers.

Steph thanks him while Tim just nods and leads her towards the back room. He can't imagine why Steph would show up to his job to talk to him, but between lunch and Dick and Steph, he isn't in that great of a mood to start.

He's closing the door a little when she says, "You know, he's really not that bad."

"Not that bad?" He laughs, "You're kidding right?"

Stephanie rolls her eyes and wonders how a boy like Tim can be so dramatic. "You make it sound like he's some sort of evil villain or something. He seems nice. He's sweet and pretty chill an-"

They haven't been talking for long but already Tim can feel his temper shortening. So the guy's perfect, he knows. He's heard it before. In frustration, he crosses his arms over his chest, "And what Stephanie?"

There's a cold stare on his face at first, but it changes to confusion as he sees a slight blush come to her cheeks. "And he gave me his number...I think I'm going to use it."

He doesn't know whether to be shocked or appalled so he just stares. It's clear though, from the new expression Steph is sporting, that this isn't up for discussion. "_Whatever_."

There's an uneasy air in the room for a few moments until Stephanie narrows her eyes, "What's your problem Tim?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been acting off lately and you claim everything is fine, but I doubt it. I also doubt that Dick and college are the only things bothering you. Maybe it's your parents or something you haven't told me about, but this is different."

"I told you before that I'm fine. I don-What did you come here for anyway? You came to see me for a reason right? What was it?"

For a moment Tim can't tell if Stephanie's more hurt or surprised by his coldness. If she claims he's been acting off lately, then maybe by now she's gotten used to it by now anyway right?

"I wanted to make sure that we were cool after our conversation because it seemed like I had upset you..." He's about to respond when she continues, "But _now_, I'm not sure why I bothered."

She's already pushing past him towards the door when he lowers his face and sighs, "Stephanie..."

She stops reluctantly and hopes she won't regret the decision in a few seconds, "Something's going on Tim, I can tell. It's with you. I've seen you get like this before but never this bad. You're being distant. When I do see you, you seem, I don't know-_depressed_; and you're mood, you're like irritable one moment and forcing yourself to be happy the next. I'm worried. I want to help but now I'm starting to feel like maybe I should just give you some space."

She starts walking again and this time he puts an arm out to stop her. He would love to tell her the real reason he's acting off, even now he's not upset with her. He's mad at himself. Mad at himself for falling back into this vicious spiral. He's mad at himself for not getting into the program and getting himself into this mess or for being a shitty friend or just about everything but not at Stephanie. She's done nothing but care.

"Just wait..." He begs.

Stephanie rolls her eyes but stops again. "Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on with you?"

"I can't...I can't tell you." He wishes he could but it's just not possible. She'd judge him, see him differently.

The blonde lets out a defeated sigh and its obvious to Tim that he's hurting her, but if he told her, it would only hurt her worse, "Then I can't wait."

* * *

Tim's not sure how long it's been since Stephanie left without even saying goodbye to him. He couldn't tell you in minutes…

but he could tell you probably tell you in pastries.

He's sold more to himself than he has to anyone else in the last hour or two. He's just been sitting at the counter feeling so stupid for how he left things. Maybe he should've told Steph what was going on, what was _really_ going on. Maybe she could help...or maybe she'd freak out and make everything worse.

Yeah...she'd probably freak out.

She'd want to tell someone, to _help_ him. His friends would find out. Then his dad would find out and his parents would both be pissed. It would just make everything worse than it already is. He doesn't want her to be mad at him, or feel like he's hiding things...even though he is. As much as he'd like to tell her he just can't. It'll just end up hurting them all in the process.

So instead of trying to reconcile with her, he's just been ignoring the problem and focusing on tasting every tart, cookie, and cupcake available today…looks like he threw up earlier for nothing. He couldn't even hold out on another binge until tomorrow. How pathetic? And where the hell is supposed to throw this up at work? Not in the bathroom, someone will surely hear him. He's not sure what's more depressing: the fact that in he's binging again in less than an hour or that he's upset because he can't stick his finger down his throat after?

Or it could just be the guilt he's feeling from upsetting Stephanie and being a total jerk when all she wanted was to apologize.

What the fuck is going on with his life?

"Everything alright?" He hears from behind for the second time today, prompting him to glance over his shoulder. This time Dick is leaning against the doorway with a genuinely concerned look on his face. All Tim wants is to gag. Of all the people he has to deal with now, this guy. He played nice earlier but he's not really in the mood to play nice right now. Either way he sucks it up because he'll be resubmitting his application any day now and the last thing he needs is to upset Dick beforehand.

Tim shrugs, "I guess...I don't know. Why? Does something look wrong?"

"Well, you only look slightly more unapproachable than usual; but I did notice the way you looked when Stephanie left."

_Stephanie_.

So she's not just "his friend" or "that blonde girl" anymore. Isn't that just adorable?

"Oh...yeah. We didn't exactly leave things on the best terms but we'll work it out soon I hope."

"Are you two close?"

"Yeah, she's like my best friend."

Dick's head tilts slightly to one side, "But never anything else, not at all?"

The older male has a hard time believing that, even as he sees Tim shaking his head. He's seen the way Stephanie looks at Tim, even if the idiot hasn't noticed himself. Maybe she's just never been bold enough to make the move, but if Tim ever did, something tells Dick she'd take it no matter how hard she tries to hide it. He just knows the look too well.

"She told me you exchanged numbers. I don't mind, if that's what you're getting it," Tim lies. He totally minds, but not because he wants her himself. He just doesn't want her with Dick. But as much as he hates Dick, he loves Steph and if this is really what she wants...besides, maybe it'll help Tim in the long run? Hopefully she can put in a good word for him or something.

"Oh, she did? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Are you sure you don't?"

"Yeah I'm sure. I'd say we're like you and Babs but, you know, Steph and I don't ever hook up when she visits me on my breaks."

Dick's cheeks turn a light shade of red and he nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hand. Then suddenly something hits him, "Did you just say _Babs_?" He grins.

Tim's eyebrows shoot up, "Y-yeah...she told me that I didn't always have to call her Barbara so I just went with that."

A smirk comes to Dick's lips, "Yeah, she doesn't really like being called Barbara, but you know what she does like?"

Tim shrugs.

The older male gives a slight laugh and winks, "She likes it when you pull her hair."

* * *

By the end of his shift, Tim feels like shit. His day's been shit. He's trying to figure out how to reconcile with Stephanie without actually being honest with her. His stomach hurts from eating and then throwing up and eating all over again. He regrets it, but when doesn't he? It's not like he can really help himself.

He's lying with his chin on the counter watching Damian sweep one last time until he can muster up the energy to drag his feet to his car and leave. Before he can manage that, Barbara's standing beside him, pulling her apron over her head and smiling, "So did you think of anything good?"

He glances up with a raised brow, "Huh?"

"A nickname, remember?"

And oh shit, he forgot all about that...or the fact that he's supposed to stay and hang out with her tonight to taste something. Damn it he's not in the mood but he doesn't feel like rescheduling either.

"O-oh, I honestly couldn't think of anything worth repeating so I think I'll go with Babs, unless you've changed your mind about Barbie?"

"Of course not."

"But it's catchy _and_ iconic."

She sits on the edge of the counter and shrugs, "Maybe I'll make an exception just for you then?"

"Oh really, I feel special."

She brushes it off with a short laugh and then asks, "You ready to try this?" Tim nods in reply, "Alright, we'll meet me in our usual booth and I'll bring it over."

* * *

As usual, everything Barbara's had him try tastes amazing. He's not really sure why they even bother with tasting, unless of course, this is just her way of spending time with him. If so, she doesn't really have to try this hard, not with Tim at least. Regardless, it's been a needed distraction from his more than awful day. There hasn't been enough time for any real sense of regret or disappointment to fully set in yet, mostly his stomach hurt and he's experiencing a slight crash from all the sugar he's consumed in the past few hours. It probably wouldn't be so bad if he'd gotten to throw up earlier...

He isn't thinking about that now though. Right now he's wondering what moves he should make with Barbara. If he's going to do this, tonight is probably his best bet. He needs to find out whether or not Dick was serious now, before he officially turns in this application and gets utterly embarrassed.

"So they're good right?" She asks, leaning across the table on her elbows.

He rolls his eyes, "Like you didn't already know that."

"Well I did...but I still like to get your opinion on it," she says while grabbing the plate in front of him. He gets up when she does almost automatically and follows her as she starts towards the kitchen.

"I'm flattered. I didn't think my opinion meant that much to you. I thought it was just a job requirement." He leans his back against the counter while she drops the plate with a few other dishes in the sink.

"Why would you think something like that? Obviously it does, or I wouldn't keep asking you to try it with me."

"So this all a ploy to get me to spend time with you?"

She peaks over her shoulder, biting at her lip and shrugs, "Maybe."

"Well it's working," he says, moving a little closer to her and slowly placing a hand on her arm. He's not even sure where the hell this is coming from at this point. He's definitely into it, he's into her. He's just wondering if maybe this is going too far or if it's even a good idea anymore. And what if she really does like him? Is he doing this to prove a point or because he likes her too? Can they even be together? What about the age difference or the fact that she's his boss? Or that she was intimate with Dick too? There are just so many reasons Tim could write this off as wrong, but he almost doesn't want to.

He's attempting to keep his calm as all these second thoughts run through his head. He can't start backing out now. He's in too deep and he has to know.

Barbara looks down at Tim's hand and then back up at him. He just offers her a smile as if he's some sort of expert on spontaneous hook ups. For the most part, he's just winging it.

"Is it now? I was having trouble figuring it out. You don't exactly seem _interested_ when you're here."

He moves so that he's behind her, an arm on either side as she's pressed between his body and the sink. Before he does anything, he takes a moment to inhale deeply and try and compose himself.

This is _Barbara_.

The same girl that he saw with Dick his first week. The same girl that signs his pay checks. This could potentially be a disaster. He's glad she can't feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest or she'd probably leave.

He leans his face into her neck and plants to slow kisses before whispering in her ear, "Does that seem disinterested?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, taking her hand and pulling Tim's lips lower on her neck, "But maybe if you do it again, I'll be able to figure it out..."

* * *

So Barbara's definitely reciprocating...

Tim knows that much. If he was looking for an answer, this is probably as clear as it's gonna get.

They're kissing, pretty heavily now. Tim can't say he ever felt this much passion behind any other kisses he's experienced. He's got her pushed up against the sink with one hand in her hair and the other making it slowly under the hem of her shirt and down her hip.

Honestly, up until the moment it's actually happening, Tim can't believe it. What she sees in him, he has no idea. Babs could have anyone she wants, yet here she was wasting her time with him when she could be literally anyone else.

Hell, who knows the last time she was with Dick?

Tim just pushes that thought out of his mind. It's easy when she's guiding his hand up her shirt and over her bra. It's lace, at least he thinks. He doesn't really care. He's got his hand on her _bra_; and the way she's biting at his lip, he's pretty sure he has the green light to put his hands anywhere he can imagine if he wants to.

He's not sure what to do, or just how far he's supposed to take it now, but he feels like he should probably do something. So he pulls her up onto the edge of the sink. Barbara responds by taking the edges of her shirt and pulling the entire thing above her head. His eyebrows shoot up and she just smirks.

Well that escalated quickly.

Suddenly every other thought about work or Steph or anything unrelated to sex is disappearing from his mind and he's thinking like the teenage boy he is. While he's ravaging her collar, she's sliding her bra straps down her shoulders and asking him for more. He even takes a moment to tug and the back of her hair like Dick said, and he'll be damned if she doesn't let out the most enticing moan he's ever heard in his entire life. This is definitely the most exciting hook up he's ever had.

Tim's got one hair sliding one hand under the waist of Barbara's jeans and the other gripping her hair as they kiss when she takes a hand to the hem of his hoodie. His heart literally stops when she whispers, "Take it off…"

Take it off…_take it off?_ There's no way in hell, not when he's been sitting here all day stuffing thousands of calories down his throat. Not to mention, that he's been rubberband-ing his school uniform together all week. He's staring at Barbara, who looks every bit as flawless topless as he imagined and he's supposed to take off his hoodie for what? He's not really even sure how bad it looks under there since he's been avoiding mirrors all week to save himself the embarrassment. Now he's seconds away from all the embarrassment he's been trying to avoid, raining down on him.

When Tim hesitates, Barbara tilts her head, "Is something wrong?"

Not yet, but it will be. Someone who looks like Barbara isn't going to want a thing to do with someone like Tim after this. It's a wonder why she's even interested now, not after being with guys like Dick Grayson especially. Maybe Tim's never seen him shirtless personally, but Dick's shirts don't always leave much to the imagination. The guy is definitely fit, whereas Tim's body goes through well…_phases_, and he's pretty sure this is not one of them.

"No, everything is fine," he answers, hoping his voice sounds solid and confident.

"Well come on then," she urges, "Keep going…you do _want_ to keep going right?" She's sliding a hand under Tim's shirt and up his back. He feels himself stiffening up when he should be enjoying himself.

"Yeah of course," he says, but she finds it weird that he's pulling her hand away as he does so.

Maybe this was a mistake? He has no idea what he was even thinking or why he let things go this far? To prove that Dick isn't messing with him? For all he knows Dick still is, hell this could be a part of it. Even if that's not the case, he's got way too much going on right now to be doing something like this. He should be focusing on his application to the program or dealing with Steph or his mom or how he's been eating or anything other than hooking up and getting off.

"You don't _seem_ okay? I ugh…You have done this before, _haven't you?_ I'm not like…because if I'm making you uncomfortable and you're not _ready_ I'm completely sorry. I just…I thought-"

He puts his hands up to stop her rambling before she starts to get too down on herself, "You're fine, trust me. It's not you it-"

"Oh God Tim, please don't say it's not you, it's me," Barbara begs, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment. "If you didn't want to do this, you could have just said that."

He sighs and hands her the shirt she previously tossed aside. This hook up is over, that much is obvious at this point. "It's nothing like that. I want to, believe me I do. I just can't right now."

"You can't?" she asks, sounding genuinely confused. He puts a hand on her knee while he thinks of a response, and she notices that he flinches when she sets a hand on his waist. It's odd, but she brushes it off as nothing after a few seconds.

Tim takes a deep breath and bites his lip looking down at her hand and then back up at her. She looks upset, like what he just told he just crushed her self-esteem by calling her ugly or something. He decides the best way to go about this, and spare her and himself, is to lie. He pushes her hand away and takes a deep breath, "I ugh…you're right. I'm just not ready yet. I've never done _this_ before…a-and I just…I feel like you're better than some random hookup with an inexperienced guy in the back of a bakery. I'm sorry."

That gets her to crack half a smile, "It's fine Tim really, I understand completely. And you're right, this does feel a little wrong, kind of rushed, but it's not because _I'm_ better than this. It's that you are; and I respect the fact that you were able to say it, or that you even thought about me before things went too far. You're a nice kid Tim, I think that's what I like about you most…but maybe that's also the problem?"

"I'm too nice?"

"No," she slides down from where she's sitting on the counter and takes Tim's hand, "That you're a _kid_. Of course you're too nice Tim. You're nice and you're quiet and you're even a little reserved, at all the wrong times though; but you don't know any better." She says all this as she guides him towards the parking lot. He follows blindly, hanging onto her every word.

"Are you saying I'm naive or…"

She stops and faces him, taking one of his sleeves in each hand, "No. I'm just saying you're young, but you're smart too, you'll learn," she assures, leaning up and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek, "and when you do, well, you know where to find me."

* * *

"I think you should've just did it," Bart says over the phone to Tim as he lies in his bed. He needed something to distract from his day, his night, from drowning his problems in food again; and he didn't feel right calling Stephanie just yet, so he called Bart instead. "You should've just fucked her. It's not like it was your first time or anything."

"…I kind of told her it was," Tim admits, "Or at least I told her it would've been, if we had actually gone through with it."

Bart just laughs on the other end, "_That_ was your excuse? You told her you were a virgin? That's weak dude and it makes you sound like a fag."

"Don't say that. It's politically incorrect. You can't _sound like a fag_."

"Tim shut up. What does that-who cares? You had a chance to hook up with your boss, who I've seen and is a perfect ten. It's like one of the top ten hottest fantasies ever next to like screwing your teacher and screwing a MILF. You didn't do it why exactly?"

Tim takes a deep breath and lets out a slow sigh. "It just didn't feel right," he lies because he can't divulge the real reason he wouldn't do it. If Bart thought he sounded stupid before, the real reason would sound even worse.

"I just want you to know that that is hands down the lamest excuse I've ever heard and I'm ashamed to call you my friend," he deadpans, "Most people will never get that opportunity in life and you will never get an opportunity like that ever again. Now it looks like you'll just have to settle for someone else or you'll settle for Stephanie maybe?"

Tim laughs at that statement, even finding the suggestion to be absurd, not that he hasn't heard it before. Even Dick seemed to think there was something going on, but there's not. They're just close, Bart should know better. "Don't even joke like that, we're not like that. Besides, she came by my job today and Dick gave her his number. She even told me she was going to use it."

"_Really?_" Bart asks, sounding genuinely astounded.

"You sound surprised."

"Well it's just, she went to _your_ job to see _you_. I don't think it was to get…you know what, never mind. That's cool. She's been like fan-girling over the guy since like Jr high school. I hope it works out."

"Yeah well at least one of us does," Tim says childishly. He told her he didn't care, but he just isn't that fond of the idea or of Dick in general.

Bart sighs on the other end, "Don't dude."

"Don't what?"

"I'm saying this as your friend and as Steph's too…I know how you feel about the guy, but we both know how Steph feels about him too. She's your best friend; don't ruin this for her because you've got a problem with it. You chose Barbara, let her have Dick."

"I wasn-wait, I _chose_ Barbara? What are you talking about? I don't exactly remember having options and she chose me."

"Tim I swear to God, to be so smart, you are seriously so dense sometimes."

"I have no idea what you're getting at or where this is even coming from."

"Of course you don't. It's just…look, it's not really my place to tell you."

"Well who's is it then?" he asks, wondering how the hell the conversation took this turn, what this turn even really is. Or why lately his conversations with his friends are going the way they are. Maybe he should've called Conner. He would've just let him vent without all the extra serious input.

"I ugh-it-Look dude I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow okay?"

Bart's off the phone before Tim can even say goodbye. What the hell was that even about? He was not expecting Bart to get all random and weird on him, the same way he wasn't expecting Stephanie to act the way she did the other night. Maybe he's not used to his friends disagreeing with him so much, or situations not going his way, but Tim doesn't like feeling like he isn't in control of things, especially things like this. He should have better control over his relationships with his friends, at least he thinks. He usually does.

It's like even when he thinks things can't get worse, they do. His mom is hovering over him now that she's found out. He's got to resubmit his application and so far, he hasn't done much in the way of ensuring his spot with Dick. He actually has to be _civil _with Dick. He's got to make up with Steph over some useless argument; plus Bart is just being cryptic and strange. God only knows how work is going to be after he pretty much rejected Barbara and lied to her. It just all sucks and it only adds fuel to the biggest problem of all.

He still hasn't forgotten the fact that he went overboard twice today. He even went out of his way to throw up and it still meant nothing. What is wrong with him? This whole eating thing is supposed to be the one this he has complete control of and it's not. If nothing else, it's slowly making everything worse, worse than it's ever been before. It definitely did with Barbara today. He's watching it ruin everything but yet he can't stop. It's taking everything he has now not to go downstairs and rummage through the kitchen after this conversation with Bart.

He's not sure what to do exactly, or what moves to take, but he knows that starting tomorrow he needs to find at least a little bit of control and focus. If he doesn't, well he can only imagine how bad things are going to get for him around here.

* * *

"So was it good?" Dick laughs as he reenters his living room with a drink for him and Barbara, "Who was better?"

The redhead, not amused in the least, snatches the glass and rolls her eyes. "Oh my God Dick, don't be so childish."

"What?" he laughs, "It was just a question."

She cracks a slight smile and takes a slow sip, "I can't believe you even feel comfortable asking me something like this. We are way too close."

He takes a seat on the couch beside her, lounging back comfortably as she stays seated stiffly on the edge. He puts one hand on her back and tries to make her as comfortable as possible because something is clearly bugging her. She's never this stiff with him. "Did something happen?" he asks, a little more serious.

"No actually, but that's what's getting to me. _Nothing _happened."

"So you didn't hook up? What the hell were you doing for all this time then?"

"Well we _started_ to," she says, "But then it just didn't really go anywhere. I thought you said he was okay with this?"

"I told him you were and he seemed like he was. I mean, he's interested. That much was obvious from day one."

"Yeah, well he wasn't. I feel like I just tried to molest a child for you. Thank you for that."

"Hey it wasn't only for my benefit," says Dick as he downs his drinks and raises an eyebrow. He's a little confused as to what just happened. He thought the entire thing was a go. Babs expressed interest in Tim, Tim was obviously enticed by her. It should've been easy. He thought he was helping all of them, though he was mostly trying to do something for himself. "So what exactly happened? Where did everything go wrong?"

She shrugs non chalant, "I don't know. We were hooking up and then I went to take off his shirt and he like panicked. He told me he wasn't ready because he'd never done anything like this before-"

"_Doesn't surprise me_."

"Shut up Dick, it's not funny. I mean, I told him that it was okay and that when he was ready, we could try again. But it was weird. I keep getting this feeling like he lied to me, because I didn't get the vibe that he was new to this, even after he said it. He was nervous, but he had experience."

"Well if you don't think it was that, what kind of vibe did you get then?"

"Like he didn't want me to touch him-that the idea of being naked made him uncomfortable. He's been wearing like hoodies and jackets a lot it was just, it was like he was trying to hide something under there."

* * *

well a lot happened...tell me wat u thought. b nice :)


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